


Honey, you're familiar (like my mirror years ago)

by chaoticcollectorchaos_me



Series: 26,000 days [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Howard's an okay dad, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Iron Man 1, Iron Man 2, M/M, Mutant Tony Stark, Palladium Poisoning, Peggy Carter is Tony Stark's Godparent, Pre-Iron Man 1, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, The Avengers (2012) - Freeform, Tony Stark Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-10-07 20:59:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 43,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17373200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticcollectorchaos_me/pseuds/chaoticcollectorchaos_me
Summary: ...That in a past life, he was a valiant and brilliant scientist who, with Captain America, managed to destroy HYDRA. It was a good fantasy to have for a lonely little boy growing up with everything and nothing he could have wanted.Too bad nobody told Tony that dreams do come true.





	1. Babe, there's something tragic about you

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know. I got no business posting another WIP, but I'm just so excited to share this with you guys!!
> 
> Plus, getting the story out there and getting feedback from you guys helped me continue writing since your comments and kudos feed my muses :)

Tony was different. Even as a child he’d known it to be true. He was more advanced than his peers, intelligence-wise, though not necessarily emotional-wise. By age two, he’d already learned how to speak in full sentences. At age four, he knew how to read and subsequently assembled his own engine. Science, math, engineering, logical thinking all came naturally to Tony. He understood them instinctively, like how one understood how to use their lungs to breathe or how to speak their mother tongues. He felt and understood science at a base level, at profound level. Some days, Tony felt like the numbers and equations talked to him. Telling him how Tony should make them fit together. Showing Tony a whole new world, a whole possibility of being. 

 

He was different than anyone else, although people said he took after his father. But then some people also said he took after his mother. That’s what happened when you’re an only child, people always tried to find a way to guess and assign which parents you resemble the most, because you were the only available option. Privately, Tony thought he looked more like his late Aunt Natasha, his dad’s cousin who died in World War II at the hands of HYDRA before Captain America eradicate them. They have a picture of her hanging prominently on the wall of the sitting room, a garland of yellow roses that Jarvis changed periodically framed it. It was a black and white picture of Aunt Natasha, her hair let down, flowing in loose curls in defiance of the convention of the day where women wore their hair tied up in public. She was looking straight at the camera, wearing a necklace with a teardrop shaped pendant hanging from it. She was beautiful, and Tony so wished he knew her as more than the stories Dad and Aunt Peggy told him. 

 

When he looked at the picture he felt a sense of recognition, a remembrance of sorts. It was the eyes, Tony decided. He had her eyes. And since the eyes were the window to the soul, when he was little he sometimes fantasized that Aunt Natasha was reborn with him. That in a past life, he was a valiant and brilliant scientist who, with Captain America, managed to destroy HYDRA. It was a good fantasy to have for a lonely little boy growing up with everything and nothing he could have wanted. 

 

One fact in particular separated him from most other people was his ‘little secret’, as Dad put it. Even the self-professed geniuses that he would meet at MIT later on in his teenage years wouldn’t have that edge on Tony. 

 

They discovered Tony’s little secret when they were on vacation in Italy. The Starks had a villa on Lake Como, and every summer they would take a two week vacation to Italy on Maria’s insistence. She had been trying to instill some of her own culture to Tony, speaking to him in Italian instead of English, feeding him food that she ate when she was growing up and taking him to a church that still performed the mass in Latin. So far, Maria’s efforts were paying off. Tony spoke Italian like he was born there, with a slight American accent, he enjoyed Italian foods, though not so much with the mass. 

 

That day, they were relaxing by the pool. Howard was not working for once, he seemed content to just enjoy the day with his wife and son, lounging on one of the chairs by the pool under the shade of a giant umbrella in his red embroidered bathrobe. Maria was sipping a cocktail, sitting beside her husband, idly flipping through a magazine. Tony was playing on the grass with his Captain America action figure, his favorite action figure that he never went anywhere without. Their peaceful afternoon was interrupted when a flock of birds flew past them and one of them ran into one of the windows on the upper level of the villa, breaking its neck. 

 

“Ah!” Maria yelped, “ _ quello che è successo?! _ ”  _ what happened? _

 

“A bird ran into one of the windows.” Howard answered, already getting up from his seat to call for one of the butlers to deal with the paralyzed bird still twitching on the ground. But before he could, Tony beat him to it. The boy ran to the bird and gathered it in his arms. “Tony, what are you doing? Put that thing down, you’re gonna get sick.” 

 

Tony didn’t respond to Howard’s orders, he kept his eyes trained on the bird in his hand. Howard was about to tell him to drop the bird again when an amber glow emanated from Tony’s hand, enveloping the bird. It was not unlike what he saw on Natasha’s last day alive, healing him, Peggy and all those soldiers after HYDRA attacked their HQ. A shiver ran down Howard’s spine. His son had the same ability as Natasha. What were the odds? 

 

The glow receded, and the bird seemed just as confused as Howard and Maria, testing its wings, fluttering it once and twice before deciding it was good to fly again. It cooed at Tony, much to the little boy’s glee, and flew away. 

 

" _L'ho riparato!_ _ L'ho riparato, papa! _ ” Tony giggled, his face lit up with joy at his success.  _ I fixed it, I fixed it, Papa! _

 

Maria and Howard were speechless, unable to react, or say anything in the face of the big revelation that their son have extraordinary abilities. 

 

“Tony,” Maria recovered first, walking over and kneeling in front of her son, “ _ quando lo sapevi che puoi farlo? _ ” she held his hands in her own, turning it this way and that way as if expecting Tony to be hiding something that could have explained what they just witnessed.  _ when did you know you can do this? _

 

Tony shrugged, “ _ Posso sempre farlo. Posso sistemare le cose, mama.” I can always do it. I can fix things, mama.  _

 

_ “Certamente puoi, tesoro.”  _ Maria smiled tremulously at Tony. she looked back at Howard, still rooted at his spot. She had never seen her husband so stunned by anything. 

 

“Tony, Tony, you have to listen to daddy, okay. You can’t let anyone know about your little secret okay?” Howard knelt down, looking at his son straight in his eyes. The eyes that he kept telling himself only coincidentally looked like Natasha’s. Because they weren’t his dark brown ones, nor Maria’s blue ones. Those amber orbs were ones that shone with mischief and intelligence whenever she would make fun of him when his inventions failed or fell short, but then offer feedbacks and solutions to improve them. They were the same eyes that stared back at him now, confused as to why he had to hide his abilities. 

 

“There are people out there who would want to hurt you for knowing how to fix things, Tony, okay? Promise me, promise Daddy you won’t tell anyone about it.” 

 

Howard must have said in such urgency that Tony nodded quickly. “ _ lo prometto, papà. _ ” 

 

Howard pulled his son into a fierce hug, memories of Natasha’s death resurfacing again after three decades, and Howard curled around his boy, hoping he would be strong enough to protect him this time. 

 

\------

 

Howard told Peggy, and only Peggy, about what happened on that summer day. She was understandably bewildered, not believing him at first, telling Howard the bird probably was just stunned and not paralyzed like they thought it was, that’s why it could fly again. But when later on that month she dropped by to visit her friend and her godson, she saw Howard’s assertions to be true. 

 

It wasn’t that she went out of her way to get hurt. But Peggy for all that she was a very capable agent and current director of SHIELD, she was still sloppy when it came to the kitchen. She was catching up with her good friend Jarvis that day and helping him prepare dinner for tonight. Tony was there with them, always underfoot around Jarvis’ vicinity, playing with legos on the kitchen counter. The boy was building something, some machine Peggy had never seen before. When asked, Tony only said that he was building a motorcycle that could fly for Captain America to ride into battle. 

 

Peggy smiled fondly at her nephew, stroking a stray hair from his forehead back. She hadn’t seen Tony in awhile, and days like these where she could spend with him and the Starks were starting to get fewer and far in between. Her responsibilities as Director of SHIELD and her own growing family meant that she had lesser time for her friends. Sometimes, she wondered what would have happened had Natasha and Steve survived the war. Where would they have lived? Would they have their own family to? Raising them side by side with Howard’s family and her family, their kids would become playmates. Peggy sighed wistfully. She shook of the melancholic thoughts and focused on what was in front of her today. Today was a rare day she could spare for a trip up to New York City where the Starks lived, and she would make the most of it. 

 

In her distraction of recounting their past missions together with Jarvis, Peggy failed to see that the knife she was using to chop onions was dangerously close to her finger until it was too late. She felt the nick of a sharp blade on her index finger, the blood sluggishly spilling out from the cut. 

 

“Oh no, Director Carter. My apologies, I didn’t mean to distract you. Let me find a first aid kit for you,” Jarvis hurriedly left the room in search of the first aid kit, murmuring to himself about putting one in the kitchen from now on. 

 

Peggy tried to staunch the blood flow by putting a paper towel on the bleeding digit, when she felt a tug on her skirt and looked down to see Tony standing beside her. “May I, Aunt Peg?” he asked politely, amber eyes shining with the innocence of a child. 

 

“May you what, sweetie?” 

 

“Fix your finger.” 

 

Unsure of what Tony meant, and thinking he might have snuck a band aid with him, Peggy knelt down to Tony’s level and held her hand up for Tony’s inspection. “Go for it, love,” she said, not expecting what happened next. 

 

Tony covered her finger with his hand and a comforting warmth flowed through her body, an amber glow shone through the crevices of Tony’s fingers. Just like how Natasha had healed her grazed arm on that fateful day a long time ago. Peggy felt the pain recede and when Tony let go of her finger again, the wound was healed leaving behind the blood stain. 

 

“I fixed it, Aunt Peg.” Tony smiled at her, then went back to play with his legos and Captain America action figure, murmuring softly to it calling the toy Steve and asking if Steve would like to try his new skycycle, leaving Peggy shell shocked and astonished. 

 

Howard was right, he hadn’t been exaggerating. Tony could heal people, he had Natasha’s exact same ability, right down to the amber glow her hand would give out when she healed someone. 

 

When she saw Howard that night at dinner, he saw that she finally believed what he told her about Tony. They retired to his study for a discussion. 

 

“Now, do you believe me?” Howard asked her without preamble, a tumbler of scotch already in his hand. 

 

“What does this mean, Howard? Do we really believe that Anthony is the reincarnation of Natasha?”

 

“I don’t know what to believe.” Howard said solemnly, “it boggles the mind.” he took a sip of his drink, sighing as he said, “I do know that we can’t let anyone know about this, Peg. No one. I’ve heard stories about those people the CIA recruited for Division X. And what they did to them after the Bay of Pigs. I’m not subjecting my son to the same treatment the government would treat someone they view as different or other.” 

 

“Of course. SHIELD wouldn’t be briefed about this. There would be no record of Anthony’s abilities anywhere in the world.” 

 

Howard nodded to her in gratitude. He could always count on Peggy to be discreet. She knew what was at stake here. She was privy to what happened at Division X even more so than Howard who heard of it from second hand stories and rumors. Howard’s decision to put Peggy in the loop wasn’t just because of sentimentality over their friendship. It was also for Tony’s protection. Peggy, with her position as a high ranking intelligence officer, would be able to surveil and keep an ear out for any chatter or whispers about Tony, and whether their secrets were in peril of being discovered. 

 

“I couldn’t believe it. When you told me, I didn’t believe it was possible. Until I saw it myself this afternoon. Howard, he--” Peggy broke off, trying to gather her thoughts, “it was the same feeling. The same warmth, the same glow emanated from his hands. It’s statistically improbable for two people to have the same powers. Right?” 

 

Howard didn’t answer her for a while, absorbed in his thoughts. “I didn’t wanna believe it, Peg. When he was born, it was twenty six years to the day she died. It had to be a coincidence, it had to be. But then the more Tony grew, the more he reminded me of her. He has her mannerisms, her intelligence. She was smarter than me, Peg, you know that. And Tony will be too.”

 

Howard turned to her, and in his eyes Peggy saw how vulnerable her friend was. Billionaire industrialist Howard Stark, baring her soul to her. “It was the eyes, you know? It was eyes that clued me in. They’re not mine and they sure as hell weren’t Maria’s. You see it too, right?” 

 

Peggy nodded. She had been thinking about that a lot too. Tony’s amber eyes, so much like Natasha’s. She used to think it was a coincidence, a genetic mishap and that a recessive trait coming out to play from Howard or Maria’s side of the family. But now, something else seemed to be the better explanation to the questions they’ve been having so far. 

 

“What do we do now, then?” Peggy asked, “just carry on like nothing’s happened?” 

 

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do. Only people who knows about Tony are you, me, Maria and Tony. Not even Jarvis knows. The less people that know the better. You go back to SHIELD, pretend this was just another day trip to visit your old friend the Starks. And as for me…” 

 

“What, Howard? What are you about to do?” 

 

“Gonna have to start looking for Steve harder now, don’t I? Natasha would have my hide if she finds out I left her loverboy all alone out in the cold ocean.” 

  
  


\------

 

And so, they all agreed to keep it a secret. Tony had been expressly forbidden to tell or show anyone that he could ‘fix’ things, if the things don’t involve machinery or techs. Peggy went back to DC, becoming SHIELD’s director and eventually retiring her post, relinquishing the mantle to her pupil, a capable Army Colonel named Nick Fury. As for Howard, he became obsessed with searching for Steve. Ever since their discovery of Tony’s powers he would go out on the expedition, at least two times a year, searching for Steve’s body, anything that would give them closure. To bring a little comfort to Natasha who had been reborn as his son. 

 

In his fervor to find Steve, Howard unfortunately became estranged from his son. He became obsessively focused on finding Captain America at the expense of time spent with his son. Tony, being the sensitive child that he was, took this as a rebuff of his existence from his father, and that his father cared more for the dead hero than the son he had in front of him. 

 

Little by little, Tony lost his fondness for Captain America, national icon, living legend and world’s first superhero. Tony became cynical of those around him, hiding his vulnerabilities and loneliness behind a mask of fast quips, banters and witty comebacks. His reputation as a party boy, a womanizer grew, despite the fact that he enjoyed neither of those things. Parties were well and good, Tony went to those because people expected him to. He slept around because it was a good way to forget just for a little while that there was something inside him that was missing, and he didn’t know what it was.  

 

Then the unthinkable happened. December 16th, 1991. Howard and Maria were leaving for their annual Christmas trip when a car accident took their lives away. Ripped them away from Tony’s worlds, leaving him alone with a company he didn’t know how to run and a brain too smart to not know how to do it. During their funeral, Tony couldn’t shake the sense of _deja vu_ that he felt this before. That he had buried his parents, who also died from a car accident, before this. 

 

Aunt Peggy came for the funeral, comforting him. She hugged him for a long time, and Tony may or may not have cried into her blouse. Thankfully she was wearing black so the tear stains weren’t noticeable by the congregants. 

 

That night after everyone left, Tony drank himself into a stupor just so he didn’t have to feel anything, didn’t have to feel that creeping sense of loneliness that started to spread its tendrils and gripping his heart in its treacherous grasp. 

 

Before he slipped off to sleep, all Tony could think about was that losing parents the second time was as bad as losing them the first time.  


	2. Something so magic about you, don’t you agree?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony, through the years.

 

The visions actually started when he was sixteen years old, right after his birthday. That day he threw a big party, much to Rhodey’s disapproval, one last bash before final exams and everyone made their way home for the summer. To say that Tony drank too much and took too much ecstasy that night would be an understatement. It was a night of firsts: the first time Tony and his then boyfriend Ty Stone had a threesome, and the first time he wasn’t completely in control of his faculties and was unable to firmly say yes or no, to anything they did that night.

 

It was also the first time he had the visions.  

 

He passed out in his room some time around 3 AM in the morning, exhausted and delirious from the events that occurred earlier. And in his heart of heart, a little traumatized. Maybe the stress of the night was the reason why he had the dream he had next.

 

In the dream, Tony saw himself at some kind of fair. People were milling about around him. It was night, but the fluorescent lights strewn about at the fair lend an artificial sense of brightness, obscuring the fact that the sun had set long ago. Tony was not alone in his dreams, there was another man walking next to him, they were talking and enjoying each other’s company. It was such a novelty for him because for once in his life, Tony was the one who towered over the man. His features were obscured in his dream, but Tony could see that the man wore a suit. It looked baggy on him since he was a skinny man, but for some reason it made him looked so precious in Tony’s eyes. In the back of his mind, Tony felt like he was abandoning his main purpose for being at this fair in the first place, but couldn’t find it in himself to care at all. He had never enjoyed another person’s company as much as he enjoyed this man’s, and that was something new for him.

 

_Thinking of enlisting?_ The words spilled out of Tony’s mouth. It felt like he was the one saying it, but the voice he heard was not his own. It was a woman’s voice.  

 

_I’ve tried. Five times. All 4Fs._ Mystery man’s baritone voice washed over him. He sounded sad, and Tony wanted to comfort him badly.

 

_Perhaps the sixth time would be the charm for you. It’s a fair after all. Why not try your luck?_

 

Whatever the man said next was lost on Tony because he woke up. In the morning haze, he couldn’t differentiate whether that was a dream or something that happened to him before. It felt so vivid, he could still hear the man’s deep, soothing baritone. The exact features of his face was lost on Tony, but he still remembered the man’s short stature and his skinny body. Despite that, Tony still felt connected to the man, he could feel his conviction to serve and enlist. To just do what was right. Tony wondered what a man like that would have to do with him. How they came to be walking side by side, enjoying each other’s company. The way he was right now, he wouldn’t even be fit to lick the dirt off the man’s shoes.

 

But Tony couldn’t deny that he wanted to know more about him. He wanted to know more about this dream, something inside him was telling him that it was an important moment in his life. The moment everything changed. Which was weird, because Tony had never been to a fair like that before, and never even meet the man before.

 

Right?

 

\------

  


Like every little boy in America, Tony grew up idolizing Captain America. He was the perfect role model. Captain America was brave, righteous. He was patriotic and he would do what was right for the country and for everyone. Captain America was everyone’s hero. And until he felt like his dad liked Cap more than Tony, he was Tony’s hero too. Tony wanted to be just as good and noble as Cap. His Cap action figure was his favorite toy, he never went anywhere without it. And someday, he wanted to have a love story like Cap and Aunt Natasha. Minus the tragic separation by death, of course. But he wanted that certainty, that devotion to and from someone and being so in love that you’d willingly sacrifice your life because life was just too unbearable to live through without them at your side.

 

It was a child’s dream and something he knew he could never have.

 

As Tony grew older, his adoration for Captain America went past the figure head and the values he embodied. Steve Rogers became Tony’s standard for every partner he managed to have. Steve was handsome. His angular jaw, his patrician features along with his golden hair, like spun gold and his blue eyes, like the color of the brightest sky made him the most beautiful and handsomest man in Tony’s book, regardless of the fact that he was dead.

 

The pictures of him that Dad kept were the best things Tony had ever saw. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he had his first orgasm while staring at a picture of Steve Rogers, looking so heroic like a knight in shining armor, ready to rain down hell fire and hailstorm on anyone who crossed him. Tony long ago accepted that he wouldn’t ever be able to settle down, because his standard for a partner was someone like Steve Rogers. And there was no one else in the world quite like him. And there was something inside him that wouldn’t let him accept just anyone as his significant other. Like there was a barrier between his heart and everyone else’s that prevented him from giving them the entirety of his love and devotion. Tony couldn’t be with anyone like that. It would feel too much like a betrayal for him and for the other person.

 

To be perfectly frank, Tony had never cared much for Captain America. To him, he was just a figurehead. But Steve Rogers, him Tony idolized. His courage and bravery, his willingness to sacrifice his life for the greater good, Tony hoped he could be half as good as him when he grew up. This fixation with Steve Rogers wasn’t something he could explain. His bravery and his

 

Dad talked a lot about how good and brave Cap was, but he never talked about Steve. What Steve would do if he were presented with a moral dilemma. What Steve would think about the Gulf War. What Steve would think about Stark Industries, getting bigger and bigger on selling weapons, benefiting on the fact that there would always be war. Would Steve approved of the way Howard, and later Tony, conduct business? What would Steve think about the military industrial complex? Would he think it’s a good idea to put everything into weapons development, like Dad and Obie did? Or would he side with Tony and push them to diversify their portfolio to include medical devices, intelli-crops and renewable energy?

 

In his heart of hearts, Tony thought that Steve would have sided with him. Cap’s lover was his Aunt Natasha, who single handedly revolutionized particle physics, and who if only the Nobel committee didn’t adhere to the stupid rule of not awarding the Nobel posthumously would be the second woman ever to win the Nobel prize in Physics after Marie Curie.

 

Steve wouldn’t have agreed with arms proliferation. He would have backed Tony’s agenda and not pushed him aside like Obie did. A soldier he might be, but he didn’t seem to be the type of man who would go out looking for a fight.

 

It was the day after his twenty first birthday. After a night spent partying and drinking (finally legally), he showed up at the Stark Industries headquarters for his inaugural day as the CEO and Chairman of the Board of Stark Industries, eager to leave his mark on the company, to lead Stark Industries out of the military industrial complex and on to bigger, better and frankly, more benevolent things.

 

“I really think we should do this, Obie.” Tony said after laying out his case of why Stark Industries should start branching out to other technologies, “it’s gonna help our bottom line.” he added to placate and entice Obie further.

 

“My boy, I understand that you’re eager to do this. Eager to start a new era at Stark, make your mark, create your own legacy. But the simple truth is this, Tony: we’re ironmongers. _We make weapons._ That’s the whole bottom line. That’s what the name Stark is all about.” Obie paused to underscore his points, “Tony, your father was a visionary, just like you. And he was a patriot. He knew that this company’s existence was crucial for the continued protection and existence of our country. And for the employees that depended on this company’s success to make a living. Making weapons is our Occam’s razor, Tony.”

 

“To be clear, I’m not saying you can’t expand or add new things. I’m very interested in finally applying the artificial intelligence system you developed at MIT to our pipeline.” Obie must have seen Tony’s crestfallen expression. He put down his unlit cigar on the ashtray and stood up from behind his desk to come around to where Tony was sitting, placing his big hand on Tony’s shoulder, “Tell you what, how’s about you work on the arc reactor. It’s been years and nobody I hire could bump up the efficiency to more than 25%. Would that be something you’re interested in? A science project of some sort.”

 

Tony chuckled self-deprecatingly, he knew what Obie was trying to do. Placating and appeasing him, throwing him a bone while at the same time shutting down the discussion on everything else he wanted. “Yeah, yeah that sounds good. Been wanting to work on it for awhile.”

 

Obie smile, a little smug in Tony’s opinion. Tony stood up from his chair, wanting to leave and escape to the comfort of his workshop, “Welcome aboard, my boy.” Obie said, and hugged him.

 

On his way back to the car, Tony took a detour to the production plant to see the arc reactor that partially powered their factory. The ethereal blue glow of the reactor was soothing and familiar. Tony had a niggling sense of _deja vu_ , like he was in the presence of a similar blue glow a long time ago, longer than he would be able to remember. The arc reactor hummed with energy, the chemical reactions happening within fueling the energy production, infinite and sustained. Right now, it only provided partial power to the factory, with the other half of the energy source a conventional fossil fuel powered plant. It made Tony’s skin itch just thinking about it.

 

With one last glance at the arc reactor, Tony promised himself that he would perfect the arc reactor technology design. It would be part of his legacy, this unfinished technology of his father. If Obie thought the only thing he was good at was making things go boom, or making things go boom smarter, then Tony would show him that he was much more than a weapons guy. Stark Industries was his, dammit, and the way things were done around would change. Starting with the arc reactor. Tony would make Stark Industries bigger and better than it was under Howard’s leadership. It wouldn’t be the first time he would have to fix Howard’s mistakes and shortcomings after all.  

 

\------

  


_You know that’s not gonna work, right? The energy distribution profile is too broad. That car won’t be able to stay floating for more than five seconds._

 

_What are you talking about? Of course it’s gonna work._

 

_Fine, be that way._

 

_Where are you going?_

 

_To the fair. I’ll be in the crowd when you debut that monstrosity. I’ll be the one with a smug look on my face, telling you ‘I told you so’._

 

_Stop being petty. How are you gonna find a husband like that?_

 

_Petty is my middle name, Howard. And whoever said I want a husband?_

 

The sound of DUM-E dropping a bunch of tools to the workshop floor, startled Tony out of his sleep. He blearily looked to the corner of the room where his disaster of a robot was beeping and whirring in remorse.

 

“Seriously, dude, you can’t even handle one measly toolbox?” DUM-E chirped sadly, claw drooping to the floor as he started to pick up the tools he dropped. Tony sighed fondly at the helper bot. DUM-E might have glitches and his learning algorithm a bit spotty at times, but Tony was so proud of him. He wondered if this was how parents felt towards their kids. If Howard or his mom ever felt that way about him.

 

It was hard to recall any occasion or instance where they were proud of him. To recall times when they were scared or annoyed with him was easier, especially if they were afraid that Tony’s ‘little secret’ was in danger of being discovered. After that fateful day, eighteen years ago, he never talked about his abilities or even showed it to anyone. He was tempted, so tempted, to tell Jarvis, but out of respect to his parents he didn’t. He did use it on Ana Jarvis, back when Ana was suffering from chemo to surreptitiously ease Ana’s pain, if only so she could get some sleep or stomach the bowl of soup Jarvis would make lovingly for his wife. Tony had a feeling Jarvis suspected, but the man never said anything to him nor made his suspicions known.

 

Tony still remembered what Jarvis told him before he died, how proud he was of Tony, how honored he was to be a part of Tony’s life and how he knew that the best of Tony was to come. Tony’s heart clenched with grief. It had been four years ago, now, but the pain of losing Jarvis was still fresh in his mind. Jarvis was more of a dad than Dad ever was. Jarvis raised him, he was there for every graduation, every science fair competition, every skinned knee he couldn’t heal himself. Jarvis was important to Tony.

 

Maybe that’s why he decided to name this new artificial intelligence system he’s developing after his late companion. JARVIS, Just A Rather Very Intelligent System. Tony chuckled, Jarvis would have gotten a laugh out of it. Tony stretched his back, he fell asleep on the drafting table again, working on the latest simulation for the arc reactor’s newest prototype. He was close to getting a working model, an efficient one that would be able to power the entirety of the Stark’s factory in Long Island and Irvine. The finished simulation showed that he was indeed close. He solved the efficiency problem, just not as cost effective as one would like. Oh well, gotta pay for progress right?

 

Tony grinned triumphantly. Yes! One more thing he succeeded, one more invention started by Howard that he finished! Suck on that, Dad!

 

“DUM-E, guess who’s a genius? Daddy’s a genius!” he laughed cheerfully. DUM-E whirred exuberantly, joining in the moment with his creator. Tony chuckled at the bot’s antics, then turned back to the the desk in front of him. He kept a smaller copy of Aunt Natasha’s picture, framed on his desk as a source of inspiration, and a photo of his mom side by side. In his moments of frustration or when he reached a dead end with his codes or experiments he liked to look at her picture and thought to himself: What would Natasha do? It was like reaching deep into himself, reviving the dormant parts of himself that was able to see all the possibilities that the numbers and equations offered. It worked well so far. That’s how DUM-E was born, how JARVIS would be able to go online soon and how he improved the arc reactor technology.

 

Tony decided to rest for the night, he had a shareholders meeting in about four hours and he promised his newest PA, Pepper Potts, that he would actually show up this time. She was a ball buster, that Pepper Potts. She didn’t care for his shenanigans, and was able to get him to do what he was supposed to do approximately 60% of the time. She entered Tony’s life on a thunderous stampede of high heeled shoes and organized the chaos of his daily life and Tony’s own self into something that resembled a semi-functional human being. She was like a conquering general, all efficient maneuvers and brusque manner to get the job done. Tony expected nothing less from the granddaughter of a Howling Commando.

 

As Tony climbed up the stairs to his room, a stray thought entered his head. That dream he saw when he fell asleep in the workshop, was that dream about his Dad? It was so odd to see his father as a young man. That mustache was atrocious, and the flying car design even more so. Dad should have listened to me, was the last thing Tony thought about before he drifted off to sleep once more.

 

\------

 

In the seventeen years since he took over executive and scientific leadership of Stark Industries, Tony managed to make the company grew even bigger. Since Obie said that weapons were their thing, their bread and butter, Tony took that adage to heart and developed better and smarter weapons, better than any available in the market. Growing and expanding SI’s market shares and catapulting them as the number one weapons contractor for the US Department of Defense. And from the profits of the weapons sales, Tony funded his true passion: SI’s research programs; developed a new subsidiary of Stark Industries that specialized in medical devices and medical technologies; funded the Maria Stark Foundation to provide scholarships and fellowships for underprivileged students across the country to pursue higher education; established research institutes devoted for sustainable energy and biomedical researches.

 

His critics liked to point out that he funded all of those endeavour using money obtained by war-profiteering. Tony would like to rebut that claim by pointing out that he didn’t profit from war, his weapons helped protect American lives. And if those critics minded so much then they were more than welcome to stop eating the foods produced by the intelli-crops Stark Resilient produced, they were more than welcome to stop using medicine and biologics produced from research funded by the Stark Foundation to treat their headaches or psoriasis or rheumatoid arthritis, they’re also more than welcome to stop going to the doctors who operated on them using medical devices from Stark Med Tech. So far no one took Tony up on his offers.

 

He single handedly revolutionized the face of science, technology, engineering and mathematics. Little by little, he’s paving the way for a better life, a better future, using science. Though the press and the media were more prone to broadcast details of his party lifestyle and his exploits as a playboy billionaire, rather than his achievements and contributions to the scientific community.

 

At some point, he started to believe the line he fed to the public.

 

_Peace means having a bigger stick than the other guy._

_Our weapons protect American lives._

_Weapons are needed to keep the peace._

_Military funding allows us to conduct cutting-edge research that enrich the lives of American citizens._

_We’re not war-profiteers, we’re patriots._

 

In the earliest hours of the night, if he was alone or if the person he was having a one-night stand with was finally asleep, he would snuck out to the workshop where he would stay for the rest of the night leaving Pepper to deal with the enviable task of sending them packing, and pondered on the path he was taking. Dad’s untimely death and the distance between them meant that they never had a chance to have a serious conversation about the future of Stark Industries. How did he envision this company to be like in the future? Would Dad have been okay with the direction SI was going under Tony’s leadership? Tony had nothing to rely on but the anecdotes Obie would tell him about his father’s beliefs, his convictions. Tony might as well have learned about his own father from reading one of the many biographical books written on Howard Stark by some military historian.

 

And what if Aunt Natasha was alive? Would she be comfortable with the way things are? Tony still funded research, hell, Tony himself was still doing research. JARVIS was a pinnacle of artificial intelligence. His self-learning and adaptive algorithm was unlike anything in the world, and if Tony wasn’t such a paranoid bastard, he would have included the full code when he submitted the manuscript for publication. He knew he was justifying his current works and his company’s works, but what else was he supposed to do? People depended on him. American service members depended on him, he couldn’t in good conscience let them use Hammer Industries weapons. That would be tantamount to manslaughter.

 

And hey, Tony told himself, they’re not war profiteers. They only arm one side of the conflict, not both. That wasn’t how they did business, that’s the line in the sand they didn’t cross.

 

Or so Tony thought until that fateful day in May when he had the pleasure of being blown up by his own weapon.

 

\------

 

“I feel like you're driving me to a court-martial. This is crazy. What did I do?” Tony was in Afghanistan for a weapons demo for the Army higher ups, demonstrating the newest weapon in SI’s pipeline, the Jericho missile. It was a good demo, if Tony said so himself. They were impressed, as if they could ever be anything other than impressed, and now he was on the way back to Bagram Air Base for the flight back stateside. But before that, he had to deal with these Army kids, intimidated by his reputation, “I feel like you're going to pull over and snuff me. What, you're not allowed to talk? Hey, Forrest!”

 

“We can talk, sir.” the soldier timidly answered him.

 

“Oh, I see. So it's personal?”

 

“No, you intimidate them.” the soldier driving the vehicle answered his question. And she was a woman. Kudos to her, being stationed in a battle zone.

 

“Good God, you're a woman. I honestly...I couldn't have called that. I mean, I'd apologize, but isn't that what we're going for here? I thought of you as a soldier first.” Tony tried to compliment her.

 

“I’m an Airman,” she said simply, brushing off his words.

 

“You have, actually, excellent bone structure, there. I'm kind of having a hard time not looking at you now. Is that weird?” Tony angled for a joke, and it worked. The other soldiers started laughing and chuckling at his joke, “Come on, it's okay, laugh.”

 

“Sir, I have a question to ask.” One of the soldiers asked him.

 

“Yes, please.” Tony said, taking a sip of his scotch.

 

“Is it true you went 12 for 12 with last year's Maxim cover models?”

 

“That is an excellent question. Yes and no. March and I had a scheduling conflict, but fortunately, the Christmas cover was twins. Anything else?”

 

The younger soldier, sitting next to him timidly raised his hand, like a schoolkid wanting to ask his teacher a question. “You’re kidding me with the hand up, right?”

 

“Is it cool if I take a picture with you?”

 

“Yes, it’s very cool.” The soldier grinned happily and took out his instant camera out of his jacket pocket and gave it to the soldier sitting in the front seat. “I don't want to see this on your MySpace page.” Tony told him. The soldier then put up a peace sign as he leaned in for a picture with Tony. “Please, no gang signs.” The young man looked crestfallen at Tony’s words, “No, throw it up. I'm kidding. Yeah, peace. I love peace. I'd be out of a job with peace.”

 

“Come on. Hurry up. Just click it. Don't change any settings.” the young man urged his fellow soldier, but before the picture could be taken, an explosion rocked the vehicle and they watched in horror as the vehicle in front of them was blows up. After that it was pure chaos. Gunshots were heard from every corner, everybody was panicking and the soldiers escorting Tony was in full combat mode.

 

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, wide eyed and bewildered.

 

“Contact left!”

 

“What have we got?” Tony tried asking again, though he didn’t know why. It was futile.

 

The driver then stepped out of the vehicle, weapons at the ready, only to be shot down the moment she stepped out of the vehicle. Tony jolted in his seat at the violent sight. That was the first time he ever witnessed death at such a close range. His heartbeat ratcheted up rapidly.

 

“Jimmy, stay with Stark!” the other soldier bellowed to the young man, Jimmy, sitting next to Tony before he got out of the vehicle.

 

“Stay down!” Jimmy pulled him down, out of sight and almost flat to the floor of the vehicle when the other soldier was shot down as soon as he stepped out.

 

“Son of a bitch!” Jimmy exclaimed. He started to get out of the vehicle too, Tony scrambling to follow him, asking him to give Tony a gun.

 

“Stay here!” Jimmy commanded him from the window. He turned around to face the firefight, but not one second later, shrapnel pierced his body and the side of the car where Tony remained. Realizing that mortars and missiles were involved in the attack and that his safety was very much threatened if he stayed in the car, Tony scrambled to open the doors and escaped the confines of the vehicle. His hearing and senses seemed dulled, he was focused only on one thing: getting out of the car, getting to safety. He always heard about the fight-or-flight response, how the human peripheral nervous system activated certain hormones that enhance certain sense while simultaneously dampening other non-essential sense. This was what’s happening to him right now. He couldn’t hear or see anything beyond that rock over there where he needed to take cover. That was the only thing that mattered right now.

 

Once he took cover, Tony searched for his phone, flipping it open to call for help when a shooting sound was heard and bomb landed next to him. His eyes widened in shock as he saw his name prominently displayed on the bomb. The bad guys were using his stuff?

 

What the fuck. The bad guys were using his stuff! How the hell did this happened?!

 

Tony tried to run away, but he didn’t make it in time. The bomb exploded, catapulting a few yards back on to the sand, landing painfully on his back, taking the air right out of his lungs. His chest started to hurt and Tony knew, the shrapnels have been embedded within him. He was proven correct as pools of blood started to appear in various areas of his chest.

 

This was it, then. The end of Tony Stark. Killed by his own weapon. Just desserts.

 

As he faded away, in his disorientation, Tony thought wistfully that Steve would be so upset at him for getting hurt.


	3. Babe, there's something lonesome about you

Pain. Pain was the only thing Tony’s brain could register. He could scarcely register being in a cold, dank cave. Someone was bent over him, shielding Tony from the dim light hanging above him, obscuring his face from Tony’s view. Not that he had any brain power to commit such a sight to his mind, not with the agonizing pain running through his body. 

 

It hurt. Dear God, it hurt so much. Tony didn’t know what’s happening. He was immobilized, hands and feet bound. He couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but give himself up to the mercy of whoever was bent over him. It was cold too, cold and damp. Pain wracked his body once more, he wanted to scream but he couldn’t. He had no more energy left to scream. The man’s hands were covered in blood, Tony could see as they moved past him. He tried to open his mouth to ask the man what he was doing to Tony, but pain blossomed through his whole body again. The words and plea died on his mouth as Tony once again slipped in to consciousness. 

 

_ Whoever you are, I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers.  _

 

When he next woke up again, he was still in the cold, damp place but the pain had subsided somewhat. His chest and his lungs felt heavy, as if something was pressing down on it. There was something jammed up in one of his nostrils, a tape keeping it in place and Tony hastily pulled it from his nose, coughing and hacking all the way. He sat up slowly, his body still sore, weak and hurting from whatever the hell he’d been through and saw that the weight pressing on his chest and lungs was from a round metal object protruding from the center of his chest. Horrified at the sight, Tony reached for the thing lodged in his chest, eager to remove it from his body. 

 

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” a gentle, accented voice warned him from the unlit parts of the honest-to-God cave that he woke up in. 

 

“What the hell did you do to me?” Tony rasped out, bewildered and scared like he had never been before. 

 

“What I did? What I did is to save your life. I removed all the shrapnel I could, but there's a lot left,and it's headed into your atrial septum. Here, want to see?” the man, a thin, frail-looking middle aged man, held up a small vial filled with pieces of shrapnel for Tony to see, “I have a souvenir. Take a look.” he threw the vial at Tony’s direction, which he caught with surprisingly deft hands, “I've seen many wounds like that in my village.We call them the walking dead because it takes about a week for the barbs to reach the vital organs.” 

 

“What is this?” Tony looked down at the contraption in his chest, tapping it in morbid curiosity.

 

“That is an electromagnet, hooked up to a car battery.” The man explained, “and it’s keeping the shrapnel from entering your heart.” 

 

He was a dead man walking. His days were numbered. What was the point of saving him, then? Seems like a lot of trouble to go through just to keep someone alive for an additional week. Ransom? Then they’re shit out of luck, since SI and the DoD wouldn’t be paying a cent. There was only one other reason to keep him alive if ransom was taken out of the equation. Whoever took him want him to build something. 

 

The surveillance camera pointing at him confirmed his theories. “That’s right. Smile.” the man told him sardonically. He was a hostage. Kidnapped by terrorists who used his weapons, his inventions, to murder American soldiers right in front of his very eyes. Tony wished his savior had never bothered removing the pieces of shrapnel from his chest. He deserved those shrapnel and more. But then again, such a fate would be too merciful for someone as despicable as he. 

 

“We met once, you know, at a technical conference in Bern.” he said again, disrupting Tony’s self-hatred wallowing. 

 

“I don’t remember,” Tony muttered. 

 

“No, you wouldn’t. If I had been that drunk, I wouldn’t have been able to stand, much less give a lecture on integrated circuits.” the man chuckled. 

 

“Where are we?” Tony asked. But before the man could answer, a clanging sound reverberated through the cave. Foreign words were being shouted through the steel door imprisoning them from the rest of the compound. 

 

“Come on. Stand up! Stand up!” the man hissed frantically at Tony. He held his arm aloft in the universal gesture of surrender, beckoning Tony to do the same. “Just do as I do. Put your hands up.” 

 

The steel door swung open and in walk a portly, bearded man. His entourage trailing in behind him, armed to the teeth. Armed with weapons that Tony designed and invented for his company. To protect American soldiers in an endless war against terror. 

 

“Those are my guns. How did they get my guns?” Tony wondered aloud, dazed and confused at what he was seeing. 

 

“Do you understand me? Do as I do.” Tony, for once in his life, did as he was told. He held his hand up in surrender and faced his captor as the man talked to him in what sounded like Dari. 

 

His fellow captor translated for him. “He said ‘Welcome, Tony Stark, the most famous mass murderer in the history of America.’ He is honored.” the feeling was most definitely not mutual, Tony thought ruefully. “He wants you to build a missile. The Jericho missile that you demonstrated. This one.” the man held up a picture of the Jericho missile in flight at Tony. 

 

And there was only one thing Tony could say to that, “I refuse.” 

 

\------

 

When Tony was fourteen years old, he was almost caught in an undertow. It was during summer break, a rare summer break they didn’t spend at the villa in Lake Como but rather his parents decided to vacation at the Hamptons instead. Aunt Peggy and her husband, Michael, came too, along with her grand-niece, Sharon. With CIA agents as parents, Sharon was often in the care of Peggy and her husband, and this time was no different. Sharon liked to follow Tony around, mesmerized by her new playmate. It was fine when they were just playing around on the grounds of the villa, but when Tony wanted to take a swim the problem arose. 

 

Sharon wasn’t proficient yet at swimming and the waves were big. In one fell swoop, she was swallowed by the water and drowned. Tony rushed to her aid, successfully bringing her back up to the surface. But his rescue of the little girl wasn’t without difficulties. He could feel the current sweeping them away, deeper and further into the ocean. He remembered what his swim instructor cautioned him about what to do when caught in an undertow. He valiantly swam parallel to the current, toward the shore, willing his panicking heart to calm down, to slow its rapid beating. As he swam, with an unconscious Sharon in tow, Tony started to reach the shore little by little, when a great wave crashed over him and pulled him and Sharon back down. 

 

_ This is it. This is the end.  _ Tony thought. Sharon was unconscious beside him, her blonde hair loose and flowing around her like a yellow halo. Tony felt the water pulling him down. It was simple physics really. An object with a higher density than water sunk, an object with lower density floated. It was physics, simple and irrefutable. His lungs were deprived of oxygen, it was getting harder to breathe. As he slipped into unconsciousness, he thought saw the worried face of a handsome blonde man with blue eyes, blue like the sea that was engulfing him, calling his name repeatedly. 

 

_ Tony. Tony. Tony. Tony.  _

 

Tony didn’t know how they ever made it to the shore. Later, Jarvis told him that Uncle Mike rescued them. Dad forbade him from swimming in the sea, ever again. Sharon became scared of the water beyond the villa and had repeated nightmares of drowning. Feeling guilty, Tony sneaked in to her room late one night and ‘healed’ her memories and thoughts, pushing away and locking the memories of being drowned and almost dying far from her surface thoughts. 

 

Uncle Mike saved them back then, but now nobody was coming to Tony’s rescue. 

 

Being waterboarded was infinitely more painful than drowning. They shoved Tony’s head into a bucket of ice cold water repeatedly. Just when Tony thought he would lose consciousness, they pulled him back out, allowed him respite before plunging him back to the icy coldness of the water, robbing him of air.

 

Sometimes they put a bag over Tony’s head and poured water over the bag. That was the worst because if he didn’t suffocate from the barrage of water poured directly over his mouth and nose, then the water got into the electromagnet in his chest and electrocuted him. 

 

On one of those instances where the water reached his chest and electrocution occurred, he saw him again. In his haze, amidst the wracking electrical currents shocking his body, he heard his voice. This time he was screaming, his voice panicked and scared calling out for Tony. Then Tony saw his face, he was scared, scared and hurting for Tony. And Tony just wanted to comfort him, wrap him up in his arms and soothed his pains. 

 

_ Tony!  _

 

_ Hush, beloved. It will be over soon.  _

 

They ushered him out of the cave, with a bag over his head, all rushed words and shouts, making everything seemed urgent and dire. The feeling of the sun rays on his skin was a blessing, no matter how much it hurt his eyes, still adjusting after weeks of being sequestered in a dark cave. The sight that greeted him was troubling to say the least. He was being held captive in some network of caves in one of Afghanistan’s numerous mountain ranges. The chances of him ever escaping was slim to none. And what’s more, he was held captive by a terrorist group who had a cache of SI weapons.  _ His  _ weapons, in the hands of these murderers. How the fuck did this happen? 

 

“He wants to know what you think.” the old man from the cave translated dutifully. 

 

“I think you got a lot of my weapons.” Tony flippantly answered, his carefree tone masking the agonizing pain in his heart and mind at seeing the weapons he created to protect his fellow Americans being used to slaughter them. 

 

“He says they have everything you need to build the Jericho missile. He wants you to make the list of materials. He says for you to start working immediately, and when you’re done he will set you free.” Fat Bastard finished his words in a flourish, arms held aloft and smiling as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. 

 

“No, he won’t.” Tony smiled falsely, shaking hands with Fat Bastard to seal their deal. 

 

“No, he won’t.” the old man concurred. 

 

\------

 

“I’m sure they’re looking for you, Stark,” the old man told him later that night, after they were put back to their cells for the night, “But they will never find you in these mountains.” 

 

Tony sat on his cot, staring despondently at the fire keeping their cave warm. Afghani winter was brutal, the blanket and sweater that were given to them not enough to ward off the bone chilling frostiness that would soon set upon them. 

 

“Look, what you just saw, that is your legacy, Stark.” the man continued, “Your life’s work, in the hands of those murderers. Is that how you want to go out? Is this the last act of defiance of the great Tony Stark?” he paused, looking intently at Tony, “Or are you going to do something about it?” 

 

“Why should I do anything? They’re going to kill me, either way. And if they don’t I’ll probably be dead in a week.” Tony answered despondently. Indeed, why should he do anything. He’s gonna die anyway, it was just a matter of time. If he build the Jericho, he’ll die after the missile was completed. And if he didn’t, he’d succumb to his injuries, the shrapnels in his atrial septum inching closer to his heart by the hour. What difference did it make when your days were numbered anyway. 

 

“Well, then, this is a very important week for you, isn’t it?” 

 

Well, old man got sass. 

 

And he was goddamn right. What was he doing, wallowing in self-pity like this. He was Tony Stark, if he was to die by the end of this week then he damned well better make the last days of his life worth it. And he was going to do that, by not dying. First thing on the agenda, save his life. Then, take down as many of these bastards as he could while simultaneously destroying all of the SI weapons in their cache. 

 

Sounded like he had a pretty busy week ahead of him.  

 

\------

 

“What do I call you?” 

 

“My name is Yinsen.” 

 

“Yinsen. Nice to meet you.” 

 

“Nice to meet you too.” 

 

\------

 

They’ve successfully disassembled eleven missile heads, extracting all the Palladium available for Tony to melt down and reforge to become the arc reactor core. Yinsen had helped him smelt other metals for the structure and frames and finally the day had come for Tony to retire the old and dying car battery and replace it with the miniaturized arc reactor he successfully created. With the arc reactor powering the electromagnet, delivering constant and sustained electrical current, the shrapnels wouldn’t be going anywhere near Tony’s heart. He would live. 

 

“That doesn’t look like a Jericho missile.” Yinsen, God bless him, stated the obvious. 

 

“That’s because it’s not. It’s a miniaturized arc reactor. I have a big one powering my factory back home. It should keep the shrapnel out of my heart.”  _ So I can live only to die another day.  _

 

“But what could it generate?” Yinsen asked again. 

 

“If my math is right, and it always is,” Tony couldn’t help but brag a little. One must always cherish the small joys in life, “three Gigajoules per second.” 

 

Yinsen looked at him in awe, “that could run your heart for fifty lifetimes.” 

 

“Yeah. Or something big for fifteen minutes.” 

 

\------

 

“You still haven’t told me where you come from.” 

 

“I’m from a small town called Gulmira. It’s actually a nice place.” 

 

“Got a family?” 

 

“Yes, and I will see them when I leave here.” Yinsen said with such conviction in his voice that Tony envied him. What must it have felt like to know that there was someone out there who anxiously awaited for your return, someone who fervently held on to the thought and possibility of seeing you again. “And you, Stark?” 

 

Tony didn’t have to answer that with words, a simple self-deprecating glance at Yinsen was enough for the other man to grasp his answers. “So you’re a man who has everything and nothing.” 

 

Ain’t that the truth. 

 

He has everything a man could ever dreamed of. Fame, fortune, intelligence, all the men and women who would gladly share his bed given a chance. And somehow his life was still empty, still without meaning. His life’s legacy, his achievements, boiled down to his success in wreaking havoc, in hurting innocent people, in the blood he shed to build his empire. Now, he realized that this wasn’t what he pictured when he envisioned himself growing up and growing old. This wasn’t the life he wanted. Unbeckoned, the visage of the man that has been haunting his dreams for the last twenty two years resurfaced. Maybe, just maybe, Tony could find him, or someone like him, when he got out of this place. 

 

The sound of steel clanging along with shouted words startled them from their peaceful respite, bringing to mind once again the gravity of their situations. 

 

\------

 

The suit worked. By God, did the suit work. Tony easily blasted his way through the tunnels, keeping in mind Yinsen’s instructions for the number of steps to take to successfully reached the mouth of the cave. Tony moved as fast as he could, hoping to find Yinsen fast enough that the man hadn’t done anything rash, at least more impulsive than running out of their cell with a rifle to cause a distraction. 

 

He could see the sun, the mouth of the cave was just several steps away when he heard a voice rasped, “Stark.” 

 

There Yinsen was, laid up on a pile of sandbags by the mouth of the cave. His torso was riddled with bullets, blood staining his white shirt. Tony’s heart dropped to his stomach at the sight. Maybe, maybe it wasn’t too late, Tony could still heal him, “Come on. We got to go.” Tony knelt in front of Yinsen, hand reaching forward to heal the man. “We got a plan. We’re gonna stick to it.” 

 

“This was always the plan, Stark.” Yinsen reached for his hand, stopping it from reaching his wounds and preventing Tony from healing him. 

 

“Come on, you’re gonna go see your family. Get up,” Tony fought for him to let go of his hand, Tony could still heal him, goddammit! 

 

“My family’s dead.” Yinsen rasped out, “I’m going to see them now, Stark.” 

 

Tony closed his eyes in remorse, sadness welling up within him. Yinsen had always planned for this to happen. “Thank you for saving me.” he tearfully told Yinsen, pushing tendrils of warmth and comfort to the man who saved his life, so that in his last moments alive he wouldn’t feel pain. 

 

“Don’t waste it. Don’t waste your life.” Yinsen whispered, his eyes fluttering close and with a soft sigh, breathe his last breath in front of Tony. 

 

Another person Tony let down, another person gone because of him.

 

Enough was enough. It’s Tony’s turn now. 

 

\------

 

Despite wearing her customary pencil skirt and suit combo and looking professional to the tee, Pepper actually looked sad when he saw her again. She stood at the tarmac next to the Rolls with Happy, pale-faced and distraught as she silently observed Tony walking down the steps from the plane to the ground with Rhodey by his side. 

 

“Your eyes are red. A few tears for your long-lost boss?” Tony teased her. 

 

“Tears of joy. I hate job hunting.” Pepper rolled her eyes, smiling tremulously, her tone betraying the content of her words. 

 

“Yeah, vacation’s over.” 

  
  
  


“I never got to say goodbye to Dad.” was not the oddest way he ever opened a press conference before, nor was telling everybody to sit on the floor so he could sprawl out against the podium to eat his whopper. Obadiah looked sympathetic, as sympathetic as he could allow himself to be in front of the press. 

 

“I never got to say goodbye to my father.” Tony addressed the gathered press, “There’s questions I would have asked him. I would have asked him how he felt about what this company did. If he was conflicted, if he ever had doubts. Or maybe he was every inch the man we all remember from the newsreels. I saw young Americans killed, by the very weapons I created to defend them and protect them. And I saw...that I had become part of a system that is comfortable with zero accountability.” 

 

The press clamored for question as Tony stood back up and took his intended place behind the podium, “Mr. Stark!” 

 

“Hey, Ben.” 

 

“What happened over there?” 

 

“I had my eyes opened. I came to realize that I have more to offer this world than just making things that blow up.” Yinsen’s last words came to the forefront of his mind.  _ Don’t waste your life.  _

 

“And that is why, effective immediately I’m shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark International,” his next words were lost in a sea of shouts and clamors and Obie trying to talk over him in a futile attempt to calm down the press corps, “until such a time as I can decide  what the future of the company will be. What direction it should take, one that I'm comfortable with and is consistent with the highest good for this country, as well.”

 

Obie ushered him off the stage, handing him off to Happy for his driver/bodyguard to escort him out of the room. As he left the room he could hear Obie’s voice placating the crowd. 

 

“What we should take away from this is that Tony’s back! And he’s healthier than ever. We’re going to have a little internal discussion and we’ll get back to you with the follow-up.” 

 

\------

 

Despite the jet lag and his extreme reluctance to fall asleep, Tony wasn't strong enough to resist the siren song of the couch in his workshop. He intended to start working on the suit he used to escape his captivity, on improving the designs of the Mark I, but the fifteen minute shut eye he intended turned to an eight hour nap. 

 

That night he dreamt again. This time he was in an army barracks, sitting outside and staring at the moon shining brightly above him. He had a slight inkling that he was waiting for someone, someone whose company he looked forward to every single day. And then he came, the same man Tony had been dreaming about since he was sixteen years old. His features were still unclear, but his deep voice and the deep-bone contentment Tony felt whenever they were together was familiar. It was all Tony needed to know it was him. 

 

Was it possible to love someone without ever seeing them? 

 

_ Planning to sneak out off base?   _ Impish words spoken from a burdened mind. 

 

_ Basic wasn’t supposed to be easy.  _ A shrug, self-deprecating and despondent. 

 

_ You’re hurt.   _ A touch of warmth.  _ All fixed.  _

 

_ It was you...That first day we met...it was you...you healed me.  _

 

_ You’re not going to tell anyone, are you? _

 

_ Your secret’s safe with me, Natasha….thank you for sharing this with me. It can’t be easy for you _

 

_ Surprisingly, things regarding you come very easily to me. I wonder why.  _

 

He smiled bashfully at Tony, a soft and precious sight that Tony carried with him as he woke up. It was the best dream he had in awhile, a respite from the nightmares filled with damp, dark and cold caves or Yinsen’s dying visage. 

 

Who are you? Tony thought, And why do I keep dreaming about you, happy and content in dreams but when I wake up, I’m left with a gaping wound and the sense of wrongness that you’re not here with me? As if we were always meant to be together, at each other’s side. 

 

Would I ever see you again?  

 

\------

 

“The truth is...I am Iron Man.” 

 

The press clamored again on the wake of his revelation, that the suit was indeed piloted by him. There was no bodyguard in an armor, it was all Tony’s doing. He had every intention of going up to the podium and reciting  _ verbatim  _ what was written in the card, the cover story SHIELD has so graciously provided for him: something about Tony hiring a bodyguard and he was the one piloting the suit while Tony was off recuperating in some yacht in the middle of the Pacific. But when he actually stepped up to the podium, something inside stayed his thoughts. 

 

_ Just a figurehead used to inspire patriotism in people, to indoctrinate them with the “American Way”, to boost enlistment number, to feed the hungry war machine.  _

 

Should he live another lie? Pretend that Iron Man was just some lackey in a suit he designed, or would he finally take charge of his own life, his own destiny? 

 

_ People would see me as Captain America first and Steve Rogers second.  _

 

Or should he free himself from the deceit and the lies of a double life, and live honestly and unscrupulously with whatever burden this new life would surely deliver his way? 

 

Hell, no. Tony wasn’t going to let it come to that. Tony Stark  _ was  _ Iron Man. The suit and Tony were one. 

 

\------

 

“JARVIS!” Tony got home late that night. Pepper chewed him out for about an hour after the successful (disastrous, according to Pepper and Agent Agent) press conference. Tony’s ears were still ringing from all the yelling and the sighing and Pepper not letting him have a word in during her lecture. 

 

Tony was pretty sure she was the only PA in the world who could get away with yelling at her boss. Though honestly, Tony owed his life to that woman, she could ask for half of Tony’s fortune and Tony would just ask her if she’d like a traveler’s cheque or a wire transfer. 

 

But really, there was no way that press conference could have gone the other way. Not after he had those flashes of thoughts, of words that he recalled he exchanged with someone dear to him. Though it was odd that Captain America and Steve Rogers’ names came up in his recollection. Maybe he was remembering a passage from one of the letters exhibited in Cap’s exhibition at the Air and Space museum.

 

“Welcome home, Sir.” JARVIS greeted him. 

 

“‘I am Iron Man.’ You think you're the only superhero in the world? Mr. Stark, you've become part of a bigger universe. You just don't know it yet.” A strange voice emanated from the dark corner of his living room, followed by a movement out of the shadow. What emerged was a stern looking man wearing an eye patch and dressed in all black like he was an extra who escaped from the set of the Matrix. 

  
  
“Who the hell are you?” 

  
  
“Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. I'm here to talk to you about the Avenger Initiative.”

 

What the shit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I skipped over the majority of IM1, but my aim was to look deeper into the events that made Tony turned his life around and the majority of that occurred during his captivity, that's why I spent most of the story with Tony as a captive. 
> 
> Plus if i recount the whole story of IM1, the story progression would be too slow. I hope you guys understand. 
> 
> IM2 coming up next!


	4. No 'who cares', no vacant stares, no time for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update guys. grad school is killing me ugh

_ Two Years Later _

_ Stark Expo, Flushing, NY  _

  
  


“ _ 270 at 30 knots. Holding steady at 15,000 feet. You are clear for exfiltration over the drop zone. _ ” 

 

As soon as the pilot cleared him for landing, Tony jumped off the airplane and flew into the cool night. Tony felt a smile bloomed across his face at the exhilarating sensation that flying always gave him. It’s been two years since that first flight test, but flying still felt like a novelty to him. The freedom he felt when he flew, defying gravity with the ingenuity of his inventions. It just didn’t get any better than this. 

 

Some days, he felt like he should just fly everywhere. Walking was for plebeians. 

 

Down below, he saw the arena he was supposed to land on. There was an opening on the roof for Iron Man to swoop and make his grand entrance. Tony Stark was a showman, and by God, he was going to give the audience what they’re looking for. Iron Man may be his second chance, his stab at atonement, his chance at redemption. 

 

But Stark Expo represented something more than his own ego run amok, no matter what Pepper said. It was him giving back to the people, and to the future generation of scientists, engineers and inventors. The people Tony worked his whole life for to give them a better future, a future where the planet was still habitable, a future where people could still breathe clean air and diseases were eradicated, and a future where technology made life better. Tony needed that future to happen, even if he wouldn’t be there to witness it. 

 

As Tony landed on the stage, the cheers were deafening. The crowds ate him up, loved the spectacle he put on. Robotic arms emerged from below the stage, dismantling the suit piece by piece, revealing Tony, dashing as always in a bespoke suit and bowtie. The Ironettes danced around him lending an air of debonair billionaire playboy with his army of beautiful women. Tony had a niggling feeling in the back of his head that he observed this scene a long time ago. 

 

It wasn’t him on the stage, but someone who looked vaguely like him, though younger, and there wasn’t that many scantily clad ladies dancing around him. Tony was in the audience and thought the whole show to be ridiculous, but he exasperatedly stayed to watch because the man was a friend and also because the person standing next to him in the audience captivated him more than the whole dog and pony show on the stage and Tony wanted a chance to talk to him. 

 

“Tony! Tony! Tony! Tony!” everyone in the crowd chanted his name. Tony flashed them a big smile, the publicity smile he perfected a long time ago for public consumption. 

 

“It’s good to be back. You missed me?” 

 

The crowd cheered once more. Somebody in the crowd yelled out, “Blow something up!” 

 

“I missed you too. Blow something up? I already did that.” Tony continued with his speech, “I’m not saying that the world is enjoying its longest period of uninterrupted peace in years because of me. I’m not saying that from the ashes of captivity, never has a greater phoenix metaphor been personified in human history. I’m not saying that Uncle Sam can kick back on a lawn chair, sipping on an iced tea because I haven’t come across anyone who’s man enough to go toe-to-toe with me on my best day.” 

 

Cocky and self-assured. The perfect mask of Tony Stark. 

 

“I love you, Tony!” a woman shouted from the crowd much to Tony’s amusement. 

 

“Please, it’s not about me.” Tony deflected,  “It’s not about you. It’s not even about us. It’s about legacy. It’s about what we choose to leave behind for future generations.” That might be the only true thing he said ever since he stepped on stage tonight, “And that’s why for the next year and for the first time since 1974, the best and brightest men and women of nations and corporations the world over will pool their resources, share their collective vision, to leave behind a brighter future. It’s not about us. Therefore, what I’m saying, if I’m saying anything, is welcome back to the Stark Expo.” 

 

There was a raucous cheer from the crowd, once again. 

 

“And now, making a special guest appearance from the great beyond to tell you what it’s all about, please welcome my father, Howard.” and with that, Tony stepped off the stage and to the side. Howard’s voice and image on the screen captivated the audience. For all that he was a mediocre father to Tony, he was still someone the public revered, even more so after his death: a successful businessman industrialist, a patriot, and a pioneering weapons designer. The crowd hung on to his every word as Tony hid in the shadows, pricking his finger on the portable device he now always carried with him. The device beeped and displayed the results in green fonts: 19% blood toxicity. 

 

“...and will one day rid society of all its ills. Soon technology will affect the way you live your life every day. No more tedious work, leaving more time for leisure activities and enjoying the sweet life. The Stark Expo. Welcome.” 

 

Welcome to the rest of your life, Tony. 

\------

 

Stark Expo was amazing. Tech companies from the United States and all around the world were invited to showcase their latest inventions. Universities from around the globe sent their best researchers, students and professors to the Expo, populating booths, filling up the seminar slots, giving talks and exchanging knowledge, advancing research progress by forming new collaborations or affirming existing ones. 

 

And of course, you couldn’t bring people from all over the world and not feed them. There were pop-up restaurants all over the Expo ground, offering the best of the New York City food scene. And since the Expo would last year long, there would be a lot of opportunity to check out the exhibitions and the food. Stark Expo had single handedly made Flushing, Queens, a tourist destination with its presence. 

 

Tony surveyed the Expo ground for a little bit, wanting to see and ensure that everything was going as planned. The lights of the Pavillion he was walking under was soft, a contrast to the lights shining over a similar event he went to a long time ago. There it went again, Tony sighed. The longer he stayed at the Expo, the more he had this -- this hunch, this feeling of  _ deja vu _ that he has been here before, a long time ago. Like this wasn’t the first time he had been at the Expo, which didn’t make sense. He had never been to the Expo before, the last Expo occurred when he was 4 years old, and he wasn’t old enough to go to the Expo. 

 

Besides, the memory he had wasn’t a child’s memory, rather it was the memory of an adult. The memory of someone who went to the Expo to support a friend, then met someone who became the most important person in his life, the love of his life. It was a memory of the most important moment in his life, and it didn’t happen when he was four years old. 

 

Tony shook his head and looked around the Expo once again. The Expo was the only thing that mattered now, his chance to secure a better legacy for himself and his chance to atone for the sins of his past. He hoped that once he was gone people would look at the Expo and said: you see that Expo there? That’s Tony Stark’s baby, his legacy. More than the weapons, more than Iron Man’s heroics, more than the front page debauchery and his business acumen, he wanted people to know that he worked hard for a better world, to give Americans and the citizens of the world a planet worth living in. He didn’t think it was too much to ask for. 

 

It was fitting, Tony thought, to close the final chapters of his life to include a fair since that was how his life started before.

 

\------

 

_ Capitol Hill, Washington DC  _

_ Senate Armed Services Committee Hearing  _

 

“Mr Stark, could we pick up now where we left off?” The Chairman of the Armed Services committee, Senator Stern of the great state of Pennsylvania, was getting annoyed at the man his committee had called to testify. Tony Stark was known for his intelligence, his scientific and engineering brilliance. What Senator Stern didn’t know was that the man was also an expert at driving someone up the wall. “Mr Stark. Please.” he said exasperatedly. Stark was busy conversing with the red-headed woman sitting behind him, his executive assistant and ignoring everyone else, including him. He was a senator, dammit. He deserved better than this. 

 

“Yes, dear?” Stark answered flippantly, finally deigning to turn around and address him. 

 

“Can I have your attention?” 

 

“Absolutely.” 

 

“Do you or do you not possess a specialized weapon?”

 

“I do not.” Stark answered. 

 

“You do not?” Stern turned the question on him. Stark couldn’t be trying to commit perjury, could he? 

 

“I do not. Well, it depends on how you define the word weapon.” 

 

“The Iron Man weapon.” 

 

“My device does not fit that description.” 

 

“Well...how would you describe it?” 

 

“I would describe it by defining it as what it is, Senator. It’s a high tech prosthesis.” A smattering of laughter from the crowd interrupted him, “That is, that’s actually the most apt description I can make of it.” 

 

“It’s a weapon. It’s a weapon, Mr. Stark.” Stern insisted. 

 

“Please, if your priority was actually the well-being of the American citizen…” 

 

“My priority is to get the Iron Man weapon turned over to the people of the United States of America.” 

 

“Well, you can forget it. I am Iron Man. The suit and I are one. To turn over the Iron Man suit would be to turn over myself which is tantamount to indentured servitude or prostitution, depending or what state you’re in. You can’t have it.” he said with a tone of finality. 

 

“Look, I’m no expert--” 

 

“In prostitution? Of course not, you’re a senator. Come on!” Tony interrupted the senator. It was too easy, come on. No one could expect Tony not to take his shot there. Laughter interrupted Tony again. At least, the people in the chambers were entertained even though Tony felt like all of this was just an exercise in frustration. But when he turned around and saw Pepper’s unimpressed face, he mouthed “No?”, Pepper shook her head solemnly, looking for all the world like she’d rather be anywhere else than in the chamber with him. 

 

“I’m no expert in weapons. We have somebody here who is an expert on weapons. I’d now like to call Justin Hammer, our current primary weapons contractor.” 

 

Oh, dear Einstein and all the quarks, Justin Hammer was here. Could this day get any better? 

 

“Let the record reflect that I observed Mr. Hammer entering the chamber, and I am wondering if and when any actual expert will also be in attendance.” 

 

Justin Hammer, that awkward slimy looking man, just laughed awkwardly at Tony’s quip. “Absolutely. I’m no expert. I defer to you, Anthony. You’re the wonder boy.” he started his speech, pandering the whole way through. Tony rolled his eyes in distaste. “Senator, if I may. I may well not be an expert, but you know who was the expert? Your dad. Howard Stark. Really a father to us all, and to the military-industrial age.” Great, now for some reason he wanted to bring in Howard to the conversation.

 

“Let’s just be clear, he was no flower child. He was a lion. We all know why we’re here. In the last six months, Anthony Stark has created a sword with untold possibilities. And yet, he insists it’s a shield. He asks us to trust him as we cower behind it. I wish I were comforted, Anthony, I really do. I’d love to leave my door unlocked when I leave the house, but this ain’t Canada. You know, we live in a world of grave threats, threats that Mr. Stark will not always be able to foresee. Thank you. God bless Iron Man. God bless America.” 

 

Silently, Tony stewed in annoyance. This inept man-boy with his second rate weapons company, who got the DoD contract on the grounds of SI being out of business. And could he please quit calling him Anthony! There’s only one person in this world allowed to call him that and it wasn’t Justin fucking Hammer. 

 

“That is well said Mr Hammer. The committee would now like to invite Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes to the chamber.” 

 

“Rhodey? What?” that shook Tony out of his silence. He turned around to see Rhodey entering the room, dressed smartly in his dress blues, looking stoic and valiant, in a room of politicians. “Hey, buddy. Didn’t expect to see you here.” Tony stood up to greet him. 

 

“Look, it’s me, I’m here. Deal with it. Let’s move on.” 

 

“I just--” 

 

“Drop it.” 

 

“Alright, I’ll drop it.” 

 

They sat back down at the table facing the senators. Tony still surreptitiously glancing at Rhodey, surprised at his presence in the hearing. What were these people playing at? They must be aware of their friendship and how it had been a rough two years ever since Tony pulled out of the defense contracting business. Was this their strategy, trying to use Tony’s best friend against him? 

 

“I have before me a complete report on the Iron Man weapon, complied by Colonel Rhodes. And, Colonel, for the record, can you please read page 57, paragraph four?” 

 

Rhodey was perplexed, “You’re requesting that I read specific selections from my report, Senator?” 

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

“It was my understanding that I was going to be testifying in a much more comprehensive and detailed manner.” 

 

“I understand. A lot of things have changed today. So if you could just read --” 

  
“You do understand that reading a single paragraph out of context does not reflect the summary of my final --”

 

“Just read it, Colonel. I do. Thank you.” Senator Stern smiled smarmily, like butter wouldn’t melt inside his fear-mongering mouth. 

 

Rhodey relented, “Very well.  _ As he does not operate within any definable branch of government, Iron Man presents a potential threat to the security of both the nation and to her interests. _ ” Tony expected it, but it didn’t mean hearing that his best friend thought of him as a threat to national security would hurt less. “I did however, go on to summarize that the benefits of Iron Man far outweigh three liabilities and that it would be in our interest --” 

 

“That’s enough, Colonel.” 

 

“-- to fold Mr Stark into the existing chain of command, Senator.” 

 

“I’m not a joiner. But I’ll consider Secretary of Defense, if you ask nicely.” There was more laughter from the peanut gallery. Tony always did aim to please. “We can amend the hours a little bit.”

 

“I’d like to go on and show, if I may, the imagery that’s connected to your report.” Senator Stern plowed on, he was getting good at ignoring Tony’s antics. 

 

“I believe it is somewhat premature to reveal these images to the general public at this time.” Rhodey tried to object, in vain. 

 

“With all due respect, Colonel, I understand. And if you could just narrate those for us, we’d be very grateful. Let’s have the images.” 

 

Next to Tony, he felt Rhodey sighed, annoyed that he was being strong armed into releasing a report that he felt was not fit for public consumption yet. Well, Tony couldn’t let his best friend down. What were friends for if that were the case? He took out his phone and started to hack in to the screen displaying images from Rhodey’s report. 

 

“Intelligence suggests that the devices seen in these photos are, in fact, attempts at making manned copies of Mr Stark’s suit. This has been corroborated by our allies and local intelligence on the ground, indicating that these suits are quite possibly, at this moment, operational.” 

 

“Hold on a second buddy. Let me see something here. Boy, I’m good. I commandeered your screens. I need them. Time for a little transparency. Now, let’s see what’s really going on.” Tony said, directing his phone at the screen to connect the devices, “If you will direct your attention to said screens, I believe that’s North Korea.” On screen, a walk test was occurring with dismal success as the suit fell over. 

 

“Can you turn that off? Take it off.” Senator Stern demanded. Hammer, eager to please, immediately jumped up to the screen and started fussing around. 

 

“Iran.” Tony continued his dismantling of the one-sided and very biased information dissemination against his argument. He’d show the people what was really going on in other parts of the world, namely that nobody had a working prototype approximating his suit. Nobody could even come close. “No grave threat here. Is that Justin Hammer? How did Hammer get in the game?” The screen then showed a video of Justin directing some poor guy in a knock off Iron Man suit to walk. “Justin, you’re on TV. Focus up.” 

 

Justin on TV was flustered and panicking as the suit he was testing imploded, the helmet caved in on the robot’s torso. The screen went dark as Justin Hammer finally found the plug and disconnected the screen from the power source. 

 

“Wow. Yeah, I’d say most countries, five, ten years away. Hammer Industries, twenty.” 

 

“I’d like to point out that the test pilot survived.” 

 

Embarrassed and annoyed, Senator Stern tried to salvage what little dignity he had left, “I think we’re done is the point that he’s making. I don’t think there’s any reason --” 

 

“The point is, you’re welcome, I guess.” Tony cut him off, injecting as much sass into his voice as he could. 

 

“For what?” 

 

“Because I’m your nuclear deterrent. It’s working. We’re safe. America is secure. You want my property? You can’t have it.” Tony pounded the table to emphasize his point, then stood up, “But I did you a big favor: I’ve successfully privatized world peace.” he flashed them peace signs with both hands as everybody around him stood up too and started clamoring and talking all at once. 

 

Nobody could take away the Iron Man from Tony. Not these ass-clowns in Capitol Hill and certainly not death. Folding Iron Man into the military chain of command would be a mistake, he wouldn’t have as much authority of his own actions, he would always be beholden to a higher authority, a higher power seeking to control him and limiting his actions. Demanding him to do something he might not be entirely too comfortable with. 

 

But then again, did it really matter? He’d be gone soon. Iron Man would just be a thing of a past after his death. Yes, yes it did matter. He couldn’t let Iron Man’s legacy to be tarnished either. Iron Man was his greatest creation, and Tony would fight tooth and nail for the authority to independently decide what Iron Man should and would do. 

 

But it wouldn’t do to not have a contingency plan in case the DoD tried to worm its way into whatever he left behind in the event of his demise. This hearing demonstrated that possibility as being inevitable more than ever. They wanted his suit, and they would do anything to get it.  Better to give them a piece of the pie than the whole pie. Rhodey’s getting a suit after all. 

 

\------

 

For lack of a better word, Tony was tying up loose ends. He donated his entire modern arts collection to the Boy Scouts of America not just because he thought them a pretty nifty organization that helped a lot of kids, but also because he didn’t understand what the hell modern art was supposed to be. A blue square in the middle of a white background was art? Get the fuck out, DUM-E could have made that and used more than one color. The only reason he had Pepper curate them was for the tax write off. And because Pepper was an art nerd, and she enjoyed going around galleries, looking at paintings and buying them with Tony's money. 

 

He had made Pepper CEO of Stark Industries, which was the best idea he ever had, second only to miniaturizing the arc reactor. He should have done that years ago. There was nobody else in the world he could trust with the company other than Pepper. She knew his visions for the company, his philosophy of how SI should conduct business, what their company was all about and she would handle everything like the pro she had been for the last twenty years on the job. The fact that Pepper had so graciously accepted the role filled him with a sense of profound relief he didn't knew he needed. 

 

As much as he wanted to say that SI was Howard’s legacy and distance himself from it, the truth of the matter was SI was as much his as Howard’s. One could even argue that while Howard built the empire, Tony was the one who expanded it. SI was their legacy and Tony reconciled himself with all the good and the bad that his company had done under the Obie’s misguided attempts for profit. 

 

So, SI was Pepper’s now. He had arranged for the rest of his money to go to the Maria Stark Foundation, and then the remainder to be split evenly between Pepper, Rhodey and his family, Happy and Aunt Peggy. 

 

Now, regarding the Iron Man suits. In the event of his death, he had arranged for JARVIS to destroy them and every single data related to the manufacturing and operations of the suits. Basically anything that could potentially helped anyone replicate the Iron Man suits would be deleted. All of the suits but one, the one he made specifically for Rhodey, would be gone. 

 

Everything was in order, now all he wanted to do was go on the last vacation of his life. Unbeknownst to Pepper, he made his new PA, Natalie, came on the vacation with them. Hey, Tony might be dying but that doesn’t mean he stopped appreciating beautiful people. Monaco seemed to be a good place, but of course nothing in Tony’s life was ever that simple. He couldn’t even get dying right. 

 

\------

 

“Pretty decent tech. Cycles per second were a little low. You could have doubled up your rotations. You focused the repulsor energy through ionized plasma channels.” Tony paced around the jail cell they imprisoned his attacker in. The man was unkempt, his appearance in disarray. The wounds Tony inflicted on him earlier had been tended to, but his general aura still lend an air of austerity, of malice about him. He looked older than Tony, though not by much. 

 

“It’s effective. Not very efficient. But it’s a passable knock-off. I don’t get it. A little fine tuning you could have made a solid paycheck. You could have sold it to North Korea, China, Iran, or gone onto the black market. You look like you got friends in low places.” 

 

“You come from a family of thieves and butchers. And now, like all guilty men, you try to rewrite your own history. And you forget all the lives the Stark family has destroyed.” the man said in an accented English, his voice guttural and severe. 

 

“Speaking of thieves, where did you get this design?” Tony retorted. 

 

“My father. Anton Vanko.” 

 

“Well, I never heard of him.” 

 

“My father is the reason you’re alive.” 

 

“The reason I’m alive is ‘cause you had a shot, you took it, you missed.” 

 

“Did I? If you can make God bleed, the people will cease to believe in him. And there will be blood in the water. And the sharks will come. The truth, all I have to do is sit here and watch as the world will consume you.” 

 

“Where will you be watching the world consume me from?” Tony retorted, “Oh, that’s right. A prison cell. I’ll send you a bar of soap.” He turned to walk away from the man and this prison cell. But before he could, the criminal spoke to him again. 

 

“Hey, Tony. Before you go, palladium in the chest, painful way to die.” 

 

Tony stopped short at the man’s words. Out of everything he said to Tony, slandering his family for being butchers and thieves, this reminder of his inevitable fate was something that struck a chord within him. Tony didn't deign to respond to the man. He was starting to get some idea of how painful it was. He didn’t need a reminder. Death would stop for him. 

 

\------

 

Rhodey stormed into Tony’s Malibu house to find Pepper and Tony’s new PA, Natalie something, hard at work in the living room. The television was on, tuned in to one of the news channel that was having a field day regarding what happened in Monaco. 

 

Pepper was busy talking on the phone, fielding questions from reporters and journalists, “Yes, but the fundamentals of the company are still very, very strong despite the events in Monaco.” 

 

“Yes, of course. The AP wants a quote.” Natalie told Pepper. 

 

“Don’t tell them. Fax them something,” Pepper told Natalie, covering the speakerphone while she was at it. 

 

“Where is he?” he demanded. He needed to talk to Tony yesterday. This shit was getting out of hand. 

 

“He doesn’t want to be disturbed.” Natalie, the novice that she was, tried to prevent Rhodey from seeing Tony. But Pepper was an old hand at this and negated her comments, “He’s downstairs.” Rhodey nodded in gratitude to Pepper and took the stairs down to Tony’s workshop. As he left, he heard Pepper on the phone again, telling whoever was on the other line that, “Iron Man never stopped protecting us. The events in Monaco proved that.” 

 

God, Rhodey really really hoped she was right. 

 

Inside the workshop, he found Tony sitting in one of the hot rods that was part of his car collections. There was a holograph displayed in front of him, a bunch of news article populating the field. It moved around, likely JARVIS was narrating the information for Tony as he listened. The headlines Rhodey could see were about a physicist who was convicted of espionage and treason. There were pictures of the man along with Howard Stark, and a picture of the man who attacked Tony in Monaco.  

 

“Tony, you gotta get upstairs and get on top of this situation right now.” Rhodey said without fanfare, barrelling inside the workshop without patience, “Listen. I’ve been on the phone with the National Guard all day, trying to talk them out of rolling tanks up the PCH, knocking down your front door and taking these.” he pointed at Tony’s Iron Man suit gallery, emphasizing his point,  “They’re gonna take your suits, Tony, okay? They’re sick of the games. You said nobody else would possess this technology for 20 years. Well, guess what? Somebody else had it yesterday. It’s not theoretical anymore.” 

 

Tony finally deigned to look at him. It was strange, usually Tony would have looked indignant, his face would be transmitting his inner thoughts of ‘I’d like to see them try’, challenging everybody and the world. But now, Tony looked resigned, smiling wanly at Rhodey, like nothing else mattered anymore, “Are you listening to me? Are you okay?” 

 

“Yeah. Let’s go,” he said, then when he tried to get out of the car promptly fell over to Rhodey’s arms, his legs giving up under him.

 

“Hey! Hey, you alright?” 

 

“Yeah, I should get to my desk,” Tony said again, he still felt wobbly on his feet so Rhodey supported him and walked him back to his desk. “See that cigar box? It’s palladium” Tony pointed at the cigar box on the far end of his table and gestured for Rhodey to bring it closer. Then he reached inside his shirt and took out the arc reactor from his chest. It wasn’t the first Rhodey ever saw Tony took the reactor out, but it was the first time he ever saw the core smoking. His eyes widened in trepidation, “Is that supposed to be smoking?” 

 

Tony shot him with a look, “If you must know, it’s neutron damage. It’s from the reactor wall.” 

 

“You had this in your body?” he asked Tony incredulously. Lord knew what kind of effect something like neutron damage would wrought on Tony’s body. “And how about the high-tech crossword puzzle on your neck?” 

 

“Road rash.” Tony answered succinctly, daring Rhodey to challenge him on it. He replaced the arc reactor inside his body and started drinking some green smoothie like his life depended on it. Maybe it did depended on it, Rhodey morbidly thought. He was silent for a while, apparently, because Tony looked at him again, “What are you looking at?” 

 

“I’m looking at you. You wanna do this whole lone gunslinger act and it’s unnecessary. You don’t have to do this alone.” 

 

“You know, I wish I could believe that. I really do.” Tony sighed, Rhodey had never seen him look so tired and weary, and they once pulled three all-nighters in a row during finals week when they were still at MIT, “But you’ve gotta trust me. Contrary to popular belief, I know exactly what I’m doing.” 

 

Rhodey remained silent. Obviously, Tony was hiding something and making Tony spill his secrets was just as easy as pulling teeth. That was to say, it wasn't easy at all and it was better for all parties involved to bide their time and wait until Tony was ready to confide in him, or Pepper, about what was going on. Still, Rhodey couldn’t help but be worried that Tony was doing something dangerous, that this recklessness, this disregard of his own well-being was masking something sinister. Rhodey hoped he was wrong. 

 

\------

 

_ Malibu, May 29, 2010 _

 

The morning of his fortieth birthday dawned bright and sunny, the same as it always did in Malibu. The spring air was warm and comforting. Tony could see the waves crashing against the seaside cliff where he built his mansion. Seagulls cawing and flying past his bedroom window. The scenery was one of a kind, reminding Tony why he wanted to build a house here in the first place. It was supposed to be a new beginning for him, a clean slate away from the Fifth Avenue mansion he grew up in, where he would be free to make new memories unhampered by thoughts of the past. 

 

Tony had always have mixed feelings about his birthday. On one hand, it was his special day and like anyone he liked to celebrate it. But on the other hand, he felt guilty celebrating because it was the anniversary of Aunt Natasha’s death. As a child he wasn’t aware of the significance of this day, only later when he was a teenager did he learn the significance of his birthdate. He was fourteen years old, and it was one of the rare birthdays where Dad wasn’t away on a business trip. Aunt Peggy and Uncle Mike came along with the remainder of the Commandos who were still alive, like Pepper’s grandfather Dum Dum Dugan and Gabe Jones. 

 

After the party, the adults retired to Howard’s study for a nightcap. And that night Tony couldn’t sleep, too keyed up after the party and he had a stroke of genius, an inspiration of sorts that just wouldn’t leave him alone. So he snuck out of his bedroom to Dad’s workshop. It was good that Dad was preoccupied with his friends that way he wouldn’t see Tony sneaking out of his room to the shop. 

 

Just as he crept out of the bedroom to the workshop, he passed Dad’s study to hear the tail end of a conversation between Dugan and Dad. 

 

“It’s been forty years from that day, huh?” Dugan said. 

 

“Forty years to the day.” Dad said, he sipped his scotch, “Some days I still can’t believe they’re gone. It still feels like they’re here.” 

 

Dugan and Gabe nodded their head in agreement. 

 

“Howard…” Tony could hear Aunt Peggy. She sounded as if she was chastising Dad. Dad held up his hand in surrender, conceding his point. 

 

“You gotta admit it’s eerie that Howard’s boy was born the same day Natasha died, Peggy.” Dugan said again. 

 

“Coincidence, that’s all it was.” Aunt Peggy said, pragmatic and realistic like she always was. Outside, Tony put a hand over his mouth to muffle his gasp, eyes wide open in surprise. He was born the day Aunt Natasha died. He never knew that. That would explain why Dad never looked super enthusiastic celebrating his birthday. Tony always thought it was because he’d rather be working than wasting his time with him, but rather his birthday reminded Dad of the cousin he lost. 

 

“Can you imagine if she never died, if she and Cap made it out of the war?” Jones said, his face alight with remembrance, “those two would give Reagan and Nancy a run for their money as America’s best looking couple.” 

 

A smattering of laughter rippled through the room. “And they’d have a brood of kids following them around. Cap seemed like the doting father type.” Dugan added, much to the amusement of everyone. Tony could see it in his mind’s eye. Aunt Natasha and Steve Rogers, building a family together. Would that mean Captain America was his uncle then? Ugh, somehow that sounded and felt wrong to Tony. 

 

“Nah. The truth was, Steve died too the day Nat died. It didn’t matter what else we do at the end of the war. If it wasn’t Red Skull’s plane, Steve would have done something else to make sure he didn’t make it to the end of the war.” Dad said again, his tone despondent and sad. Tony had never Dad sound so listless before. 

 

“You don’t know that, Howard,” Aunt Peggy tried to deny him, though she didn’t sound like she believed her own assertions, “You don’t know what Steve would have done.” 

 

“He rejected any assistance for safe landing, Peggy. You saw how he was after Nat’s death. Like a ghost, a dead man walking. Not an ounce of liveliness left in him. He was just going through the motions, biding time until it was his turn to go too. You can’t tell me he wasn’t more reckless during missions after Nat’s gone. He wanted to go. It was the only he looked forward to.” 

 

Captain America was suicidal? Now  _ that  _ wasn’t in any history books.  

 

Aunt Peggy was silent, and so were the Commandos. The mood was sufficiently soured at the reminder of what they lost. “Well, I do know that Natasha and Steve wouldn’t have wanted us to mope around, thinking of what could have been.” Aunt Peggy said again, “We’re here to celebrate Anthony’s birthday and by God, we’re going to do that. If they were here, they would be rightly ticked at us for being such debby downers.” 

 

That got a chuckle out of the other men in the room. They raised their glass in a toast, “To Tony, happy birthday, we expect great things from you! To Steve and Natasha, wherever the hell they are. We miss you, numbnuts!” They clinked their glasses for a toast and a cheer. 

 

Tony silently moved away from the wall and crept back towards his room, but not before he took a detour to the family room where a family picture of the three of them and Aunt Natasha’s picture were displayed prominently above the mantle. Aunt Natasha in the picture was forever twenty-four, frozen in time by virtue of death. What was it like for you, Tony thought? What did it feel like to love someone so deeply, so earnestly, that the thought of living without them beside you was too painful, that death was the better path to pursue? What was Aunt Natasha like when she was alive, that Steve Rogers found solace in death with her than a life without her? 

 

“I wish I knew you,” Tony whispered to the photograph. Predictably, it didn’t answer him back. 

 

The beeping sound on his phone signaling an incoming message startled him from his musings. The big 4-0. Anyone else would have been ecstatic, a chance to throw a big birthday bash, a big shindig. You only turn forty once. But right now, all Tony wanted was to curl up in his bed, fall back to sleep and let the world turn for another day. It would still keep doing that even after he’s long gone anyway. 

 

“JARVIS, who’s the message from?” he called out to his AI.

 

“From Director Carter, Sir, your godmother.” JARVIS responded, “and happy birthday to you, Sir. It continues to be both an honor and pleasure to serve you.” 

 

Tony smiled softly at his AI’s words, “Thanks, J. Wouldn’t have wanted anybody else by my side but you, buddy. Display Aunt Peggy’s message.” It was an email from Aunt Peggy, wishing him a happy birthday from Arlington, Virginia. The message continued with Aunt Peggy saying how much she missed him and how nice it would be if they could get together sometime soon before she went to visit her family back in London. 

 

Well, Tony never could say no to a pretty woman. 

 

“JARVIS, prep the suit. I’m going to Virginia.” 

 

“What about your birthday party, Sir?” 

 

“It’s my last birthday, J. I’m gonna do whatever I want to do with whoever I wanted to do it with.” 

 

“What should I tell Ms. Potts and Colonel Rhodes?” 

 

Tony grinned up at the ceiling, “Tell ‘em I’m gonna go see about a girl. And tell Rhodey he can have his suit. Just his though, not the other ones.” 

 

\------

 

Peggy lived in a quaint brownstone in Arlington, Virginia. Tony had offered numerous times to buy her a bigger house in the suburb but she always refused, shoot down his offers, saying she’s more than happy to live where she was now. After her husband’s death, Peggy had decided to stay in the house they lived in for their entire marriage. The house held a lot of fond memories for her, and she wasn’t too keen at the thought of moving anymore. 

 

Tony arrived at Arlington in the afternoon, surprising Peggy who didn’t think her godson would actually flew across the country just because of an email she sent, and on his birthday no less. She was so happy, she hugged Tony for five minutes straight, not letting go of the boy once. Her Anthony, hard to believe he was an adult now. Whenever Peggy saw him she always saw the precocious bright eyed boy who was too smart for his own age, and wasn’t afraid to show it. The older Anthony got the more she saw Natasha in him. She saw her in his behavior, his passion for science, his heart of gold and how generous he saw and how much he tried to hide everything behind a mask of sarcastic quips and outrageous stunts. 

 

She was so proud when Anthony announced that SI would cease from producing weapons. She knew sooner or later something like this would happen, though she was saddened by the circumstances that led to Anthony’s so-called redemption. In Peggy’s mind Anthony had nothing to repent for, though her godson saw it that way. He was unaware of what occurred in his company and was guilty only of trusting his business partner (may he rot in hell). 

 

They spent the day around Washington DC, taking in the sights. Tony hadn’t been in DC since his last Senate testimony and back then he was so rushed he didn’t even have time to visit Peggy. But this time was different. He was spending his birthday with the one person who loved him unconditionally, his godmother, the one person closest to his parents that was left in this world. The entire day Tony couldn’t help but be saddened by the fact that he would be gone before Peggy. Aunt Peggy already had to survive the death of her best friends, then Howard, then her husband and her friends from the Howling Commando. To make her live longer than her godson was a fate too cruel to stand. 

 

“Anthony, what’s wrong, dear? You’ve barely touched your meat pasty.” Peggy asked him. They were seated at a quaint little Tea House that Peggy frequented for the afternoon. After a whole day of walking around they decided to take it easy for now, in the lull between afternoon and dusk and enjoyed the rest of the time chatting.

 

“Huh? Oh, nothing. Just a little tired, I guess. I don’t know if you know, but things have been a little tense at SI lately.” Tony tried to smile reassuringly at Peggy, but Peggy wasn’t a SHIELD founding member for nothing. 

 

“Yes, I’m aware. Virginia is now the CEO of Stark Industries. That must have been quite the transition for her. Or perhaps not? Since she’s been managing everything for you, all of these years?” Peggy teased him. 

 

“Yeah, Pep, she’s-- she’s doing great, Aunt Peg. Better than I ever did since she actually cared about the nitty gritty details of running a business while I’m content to leave everything to her and focus on the tech and the research. And the people like her.” 

 

“Oh if only Dugan could see this. He would be so proud of her. His granddaughter, CEO of a Fortune 500 company.” 

 

Tony’s smile was tinted with sadness this time. Peggy had never seen Tony like this before. To anyone else, it might seem like Tony Stark as usual, but Peggy knew her godson and something was weighing down on him. 

 

“Darling, what aren’t you telling me?” she asked her godson. Tony‘s eyes remained glued to the tea cup in front of him, his hand idly tapping the table in what Peggy came to know as a nervous tick. 

 

“That I love you and really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” Tony finally said, “Really, Aunt Peg, I don’t know how I would have survived adulthood if I didn’t know that you always have my back. Thank you. I just want you to know that, okay? I just-- you have to know, Peggy. You have to.” 

 

“Oh, darling,” Peggy sighed and shifted in her seat. She placed her hand on Tony’s own and squeezed it tight, “I love you too, my darling. I never had children of my own, but I have you. I love you like my own son, and I know, Anthony. I know, darling. Don’t fret.” 

 

Anthony smiled tearfully at her, his eyes wet with unshed tears, “That’s good.” Peggy reached forward and placed a hand on his cheek, lifting his head up for her to see his face. Those warm amber eyes stared back at her, and for a split second she was transported back to 1944, when Natasha burst into her room to give her that red dress of hers Peggy really liked and would borrow often, insisting she didn’t like it anymore and that it was now Peggy’s. Before leaving she asked Peggy if she knew how much Natasha love and appreciate her, and that she would never make it through this war without having her in her corner. Peggy was perplexed at the question and jokingly answered Natasha that she didn’t know that but it was good to finally be appreciated by someone. Natasha smiled and left. Two days later, they found her dead on the bedroom floor. 

 

Was this happening again? Anthony was dying?

 

“Anthony, what-- honey, what’s going on? Are you okay?” 

 

“Yeah, I’m fine, Aunt Peg. Just a-okay. Hey, where’s the waiter around here? Need a fresh pot of tea here.” Tony started to get up from his seat, looking around for a waiter. 

 

“You rang, Sir?” an ominous voice sounded from behind Tony and as he turned around he was met face to face with none other than Captain Hook himself, Nick Fury, manager of the super-secret boyband that Tony already declined to join. 

 

“What the hell,” 

 

“Nicholas, what a surprise. Please join us.” Aunt Peggy looked at her protege in surprise before quickly recovering herself and offering the seat next to her. 

 

“Thank you, Director Carter,” Fury nodded respectfully. Aunt Peggy changed seats so she could sit next to Tony. Fury stared wordlessly at Tony, unnerving him. 

 

“Look, I told you I don’t wanna join your super-secret boy band. Now can you please go away and let me enjoy spending my time with my godmother?” 

 

“No, no, no. See, I remember, you do everything yourself. How’s that working out for you?” Fury asked him, condescending to the tee. 

 

“It’s… It’s… It’s… I’m sorry.” Tony tried to avoid answering, not wanting to let Aunt Peggy what a mess his life had been, “I don’t wanna get off on the wrong foot. Do I look at the patch or the eye? Honestly I’m a bit confused. I’m not sure if you’re real of if I’m having --” 

 

“I am very real. I’m the realest person you’re ever gonna meet.” 

 

“Just my luck,” Tony deadpanned, “Seriously, where’s the staff here? I need some tea!” Tony leaned over to look around the suspiciously empty shop, which was not empty when he and Peggy first step foot in it. In his haste to move, he exposed the poisoned blood vessels along his neck to Peggy, who was rightfully horrified at the sight. 

 

“What are those? Anthony!” 

 

“What-- Oh.” Tony placed a hand on the side of his neck belatedly hiding it from view. 

 

“That’s not looking so good.” Fury blandly commented. 

 

“I’ve been worse.” Tony glowered at him, “Look, Aunt Peg, I was gonna tell you --” 

 

“Oh really?” Peggy folded her arms in front her chest, leveling her godson with a look she only reserved to enemy combatants, “and when were you planning to tell me, young man? After you’ve died and I have to read your obituary on the Wall Street Journal?” 

 

Tony winced at the accuracy of her statement, he really wasn’t planning on telling her or anyone else in his life. He would just grin and bear it, not wanting to make them sad or burden them with the knowledge of his impending death. It wasn’t fair to them. Tony would rather they remember him the way he was, a snarky, fun and lovable pain in the ass. 

 

“I’m sorry, Peggy. But I don’t want to burden you with this, this knowledge, knowing I’m dying and that I’m going to die. It’s not fair on you, on anyone.” 

 

“What’s not fair is expecting us to be okay about not having you, Anthony. You don’t have to do this alone, my dear. How are you so resigned to your fate?” 

 

Before Tony could answer her, give her an explanation of his situation, another voice interrupted him. “We’ve secured the perimeter but I don’t think we should hold it for too much longer.” Natalie’s voice filtered through but when he turned around Natalie wasn’t garbed in her usual low cut blouse and tight skirt combo, rather in a catsuit that looked like it was painted on her. 

 

“You’re fired.” Tony said. 

 

“That’s not up to you.” she said simply. 

 

“Tony, I want you to meet Agent Romanov.” 

 

“Hi.” 

 

“I’m a SHIELD shadow. Once we knew you were ill, I was tasked to you by Director Fury.” 

 

“You’ve been very busy. You made your girl your CEO, you’re giving away all your stuff. You let gave one of your suits to your friend. Now, if I didn’t know better…”

 

“You don’t know better. I didn’t give it to him. He took it.” 

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. He took it? You’re Iron Man and he just took it? The little brother walked in there and took your suit? Is that possible?” Fury asked Romanov. 

 

“Well, according to Mr Stark’s database security guidelines, there are redundancies to prevent unauthorized usage.” 

 

Tony groaned, “What do you want from me?” and apparently that was the correct thing to say, because Fury launched into a tirade that was painful to listen or pay attention to. 

 

“What do we want from you? What do you want from me?” he said, “You have become a problem, a problem I have to deal with. Contrary to your belief, you are not the centre of my universe. I have bigger problems than you in the southwest region to deal with.” In the midst of all of this, Agent Romanov left the table only to return a couple minutes later with a syringe, “hit him.” 

 

And she jabbed the needle to Tony’s neck, causing Tony to flinched backwards towards Peggy, “Ow!” Tony yelped, at the same time he could hear Aunt Peggy propping him up and chastising Fury for treating her nephew so callously. 

 

“Apologies, Director, but it was necessary.” 

 

“Oh, God, are gonna steal my kidney and sell it? Could you please not do anything awful for five seconds? What did she just do to me?” 

 

“What did we just do for you? That’s lithium dioxide. It’s gonna take the edge off. We’re trying to get you back to work.” 

 

“Give me a couple of boxes of that. I’ll be right as rain.” 

 

“It’s not a cure, it just abates the symptoms.” Romanov said again. 

 

“Would somebody kindly explain what is going on right now? Anthony, why do you need lithium dioxide injection?” 

 

“I’m dying, Aunt Peg. The reactor that’s keeping me alive is slowly leaking palladium to my bloodstream, poisoning me. I can’t stop using it because I need it to keep the shrapnel away from my heart, but by using the reactor I’m constantly increasing the concentration of heavy metal in my blood. It’s like some kind of sick Catch-22.” 

 

“Oh, dear God.” Peggy gasped. 

 

“And it doesn’t look like it’s gonna be an easy fix.” added Fury. 

 

“Trust me, I know. I’m good at this stuff. I’ve been looking for a suitable replacement for palladium. I’ve tried every combination, every permutation of every known element.” 

 

“Well, I’m here to tell you, you haven’t tried them all.” 

 

\------

 

After that disastrous afternoon tea session with Peggy that was crashed by Captain Hook and Agent Alias, Tony dropped off Peggy back at her house for the evening. And with a solemn promise to keep in touch with her and to let her know everything that would happen next, he departed back to Malibu but not before making another detour. 

 

It was almost dark when he finally landed on the cemetery where they buried Mom and Dad. Tony walked along the path until he found the correct headstones marking his parents’ final resting place. His parents were buried side by side, together in death as they were in life. But there was another headstone located nearby his parents’ headstone, and that person had been buried there longer than both Howard and Maria. 

 

A marble headstone marked all three resting places. Maria’s was the first that Tony saw. He gently cleaned the headstone and placed the white roses he brought her grave. Some days, he missed her so much, the pain was aching pang deep in his chest. On days like these, he wondered what she would say to him, if she could see him now. Would she be proud of him? 

 

_ Maria Collins Carbonell Stark  _

_ 1947-1991 _

_ Beloved Wife and Mother _

_ Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye, _ _   
_ _ In every gesture: dignity and love _

 

Next was Howard’s headstone. Tony didn’t place any flower there, Dad wouldn’t like it anyway. What he said in the press conference a long time ago was true. He never got a chance to ask him what he would want his company to be like. Was he comfortable with being viewed as the Merchant of Death? Was weapons production always the endgame, or would he be happy with the directions Tony was taking, improving his previous inventions and making Stark Industries even more profitable than it ever was before? Or would he resent Tony for doing what he never could achieve?

 

_ Howard Anthony Walter Stark _

_ 1917-1991 _

_ Beloved Father and Husband _

_ If I have seen further than others, it is by standing upon the shoulders of giants _

  
  


The last headstone in the Starks private plot was Aunt Natasha’s. Howard had exhumed her body after the war was over, saying he didn’t want to leave Natasha in the continent by herself, surrounded by death and destruction. They reinterred her here, at the Stark family burial plot. Her headstone was simple, like Mom and Dad’s were, but more worn and dull due to the environment and how old it was. 

 

_ Natasha Magdalena Stark _

_ 1920-1944 _

_ Beloved cousin, friend and lover _

_ Work out your salvation with fear and trembling - Philippians 2:12 _

 

Tony always thought it peculiar that Aunt Natasha’s epitaph came from the Bible. Out of the three of them, Maria was the most religious one, yet she chose a quote from John Milton as her epitaph, while Aunt Natasha, who was a self-proclaimed agnostic, chose a quote from the Bible. But as Tony read it again the phrase stuck to him.  _ Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.  _ It spoke to him in a way that no other Bible verses ever did: you shouldn’t depend on someone else to save you, save yourself even though you would struggle along the way, even though you would be scared of what would happen to you. Take your fate into your own hands, it’s the only way to ensure your survival. Tony smiled to himself, yeah that sound about right. No one could save Tony but himself. Time to get back to work. He wasn’t finished with living yet. 

 

\------

 

With Howard’s help from beyond the grave, Tony managed to synthesize a new element that successfully replaced the palladium as the arc reactor’s core. From the tests JARVIS ran, Howardium (yes, it’s an unbecoming name, but Tony didn’t know what else to call it) worked out even better than palladium. So far no neutron damage was observed and what’s even better, no heavy metal was leeching in to Tony’s bloodstream. So it was a win for Team Stark at the moment. 

 

With Rhodey, Agent Matahari and Happy’s help he managed to defeat Vanko and Pepper, like the _bawse_ that she was, put Hammer in jail. Tony was so awestruck by Pepper’s power move that if she were anyone else, he would have been turned on. As it was, Pepper was like a sister to him. It’d be weird to be turned on by your own sister. Tony wasn’t that weird yet. Tony managed to persuade Pepper to stay as CEO, even after she had threatened to quit because she couldn’t handle Tony and how stressful everything was at the moment. The exploding Japanese garden didn’t exactly helped prove Tony’s point that he did okay and had everything under control. 

 

So everything was back to normal, relatively. That morning he had a meeting with Fury to discuss his possible involvement with the Avengers initiative aka the super-secret boyband initiative. So here Tony was, in some nondescript warehouse, by himself, because for once in his life someone managed to be even more fashionably late than he was. On the table in front of him was a folder with SHIELD’s logo embossed on the front, proudly proclaiming itself to be “AVENGERS INITIATIVE PRELIMINARY REPORT”. Curiosity killed the cat, but not Tony, so he surreptitiously lifted the cover to peek what was inside. But before he could, Fury interrupted him. 

 

“I don’t think I want you looking at that. I’m not sure it pertains to you anymore. Now this on the other hand, is Agent Romanov’s assessment of you. Read it.” he handed Tony another folder, and motioned for him to start reading it. 

 

“‘Personality overview. Mr Stark displays compulsive behavior.’ In my own defense, that was last week. ‘Prone to self-destructive tendencies.’ I was dying. I mean, please. Aren’t we all? ‘Textbook narcissism’?” Well, Tony had to give her that, “Agreed. Okay, here it is. ‘Recruitment assessment for Avenger Initiative. Iron Man? Yes.’ I gotta think about it.” he said smugly to Fury’s face. 

 

“Read on.” 

 

“‘Tony Stark not… Not recommended’? That doesn’t make any sense. How can you approve me but not approve me?” He was dumbfounded, “I got a new ticker. I’m trying to do right by Pepper. I’m not as unstable as I was before, though all that remains to be seen.” 

 

“Which leads us to believe at this juncture we’d only like to use you as a consultant.” Tony stood silently and shook Fury’s hands before saying, “You can’t afford me,” with a cutesy little condescending smile and turned to leave before he remembered something he could make Fury do that would almost make being rejected worth it, “Then again, I will waive my customary retainer in exchange for a small favour. Rhodey and I are being honored in Washington and we need a presenter.” 

 

One of Fury’s eyebrows lift up, “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

\------

 

That night after the medal presentation, Tony dreamed again. It was the same dream he had before. He was at an Expo, the sign proclaiming it to be the World Expo of 1942. Tony didn’t know what he was doing here, he had a feeling he was here to support someone and also just to be a pain in the ass by annoying said someone. He walked around for a little bit, killing time until the main event. When it was time to head over to the pavillion where it would take place, Tony started walking there, only to stop short in his track as he saw the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his life. He was on the short side, and thin, if the baggy suit and jacket was anything to go by. His hair was blond, neatly parted to one side and he was beautiful, and soft, and precious and everything Tony didn’t know he was looking for. 

 

_ Oh there you are. I’ve been looking for you my whole life.  _

 

Unprompted his feet move forward to the where the man was standing, his view of the stage blocked by inconsiderate people who ignored the most important person in Tony’s life. He finally reached him standing next to him in the crowd. The man was carrying a bag of cracker jacks, he offered it to the blond woman standing in front of him, only for the woman to reject his offer with her callous stare. The man stared confusedly at the snack, brow furrowing in confusion as if he didn’t understand why anyone would say no to some snacks. Tony’s heart clenched with affection, he just wanted to hug him and carry him away where they could hide away from the cruelty of this world. 

 

On stage, Howard was demonstrating his flying car, which floated for all of 5 seconds, because he ignored Tony’s advice. The man next to him was staring raptly at the spectacle, his eyes lighting up with joy as he saw the wonders of science. There was no question, Tony was in love. 

 

_ I keep telling him that if only he reduces the reverberations on the flight stabilizer, he’d be able to maintain the car in flight longer. _

 

_ Pardon?  _ He turned to face Tony and this time, his face was in full view. Tony could finally see him, the face of the man of his dreams, the man that has been in his head and in his heart for most of his life, and he was the best thing Tony has ever seen.

 

_ The flight stabilizer on the car. He didn’t take into account the additional weight of the car and how much more energy the stabilizer would need to expend to held the car aloft. And since there’s only a finite source of energy in the first place, all of that energy that could be used to fly are now redirected to make sure the car would be stable when floating. The end result was what you and everybody here just saw. _

 

_ Oh, wow. That’s amazing. You know a lot about machines! _

 

_ Not bad for a woman, huh?  _ Wait, what? Tony’s not a woman.

 

_ Not bad for anyone at all. How is it that you know so much then? _

 

_ I like to read. It’s a good way to spend the time. _

 

_ I know what you mean. I was sick a lot as a kid, spent a lot of my time laid up in bed. Books were the only way I could keep myself from being stir crazy about being bedridden. _

 

_ It seems you’ve successfully conquered your illness. And what great fortune for me because that means I have a chance of making your acquaintance. _

 

_ Yeah, I-- I’m healthier now. Well, not healthy per se, I still have asthma and allergies, sometimes if it gets really cold emphysema kicks in, but-- you know what, you don’t want to hear about this. I’m Steve Rogers. And you are?  _ he rambled, Tony’s man was a rambler, how much more cuter could he be? 

 

Tony opened his mouth to answer him, eager to answer, but before he could give Steve his name, Tony woke up. As he came to and became aware of his surroundings, on the tip of his tongue, he could still feel the words that were about to form in his mouth to answer Steve’s question. And it was “Natasha?” 

 

\------

 

_ At the same time in New York City _

 

It was the same dream every night. Steve would be standing by himself, surrounded by darkness. Then a flash of light, and Natasha was there. But she stood at a distance from him, facing away from him. And when Steve called out to her, she started to walk away. Steve chased after her, he kept on walking after her and calling out her name but she never deign to acknowledge him. Just as Steve was about to give up, another bright light appear, now it looked a towering source of light and Natasha was walking towards it. When she was close, she stopped and Steve finally managed to get close to her. Then she slowly turned her head to look at him. But just as he caught a glimpse of her face, he would wake up. 

 

Every night, it was the same thing. Being so close yet so far removed from her. Having her near and then in instant, she was ripped away from him. Steve rubbed his hands over his face, giving up on the notion of sleeping again after that dream. He went to his closet instead to put on a shirt before heading to the gym. 

 

It had been two weeks since they resurrected him. Since Steve woke up in this strange world, seventy years into the future, alone, still grieving and in pain. He wasn’t just being flippant or quipping when he told Colonel Fury that they should have just left Steve where they found him. From what he was seeing so far, this wasn’t a world he wanted to live in. People kept telling Steve that they won the war. Yeah, we won, but at what cost? 

 

Physical exertion was the only that could silence all the clamoring in his mind. Rationally, Steve was aware that what he was experiencing was shell-shock. (They had a new name for it now, but it’s describing the same thing. Then why’d you even change it in the first place?)

 

He knew he should talk to someone. But he couldn’t bear the thought of telling someone, anyone, his deepest, darkest thoughts. Would they even understand? Suppose there were a lot of soldiers out there who got transported seventy years into the future. His life as he knew it was gone. His friends were gone, everybody from his old neighborhood was gone. 

 

Steve strung up a weight to the hook connected to ceiling. He wrapped his hands in the bandages and started going to town on the punching bag, releasing all his frustration and anger on the bag. As he did so images of his past life flashed before his eyes. He remembered it all like it was yesterday. Meeting Erskine, getting shot up with the superserum, meeting Natasha, falling in love with her, making love to her, her cold lifeless body in his arms, fighting with the Commandos, Howard and Peggy’s friendship, rescuing Bucky, failing Bucky, failing Natasha. The mixed emotion of relief and guilt when the plane he flew needed to be put down in the water. Relief because he no longer had to live in a Natasha-less world, and guilt for making the people he left behind deal with the consequences.

 

He didn’t know what to feel anymore. Anger, sadness, guilt, despair, all mixed into one and created a rage that knocked the punching bag off its hinge and sent it flying across the room. Which was how Nick Fury found him. 

 

“Trouble sleeping?” 

 

Steve was in no mood for small talk. There was only one reason for Fury being here, “You’re here with a mission, sir?

 

“I am.” 

 

“Trying to get me back in the world?”

 

“Trying to save it.”

\------


	5. Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing this chapter killed me

_ Midtown Manhattan, NYC, 6:05 AM  _

 

May 4, 2012. A day which would live in infamy. That morning Tony woke up without any ominous feelings, just excitement for today’s event. Today, he and Pepper would finally disconnect Stark Tower from the city’s power grid to be powered completely by the newest arc reactor prototype, the most cost efficient and sustainable model to date. It would be a demonstration to his future and current investors, the public and the world, that Tony Stark and Stark Industries weren’t playing around when they said they will be  _ the _ name in green and renewable energy and Tony Stark always delivered on what he promised. Making a switch from weapons manufacturing to green energy wasn’t something easy, Tony and Pepper knew that going in. It meant sleepless nights at the workshop; it meant countless meeting with investors, new and old, trying to convince them that this new venture of theirs was a good investment, something worth putting their big bucks on. And what better way to demonstrate the feasibility of their proposal but by showing the world just how great, how efficient and how green the technology was by using it to power a skyscraper in the most famous city in the world?

 

It wasn’t cheap, God knew it wasn’t. Most of the funds to build Stark Tower came from his own personal funds. Tony oversaw the purchasing of the Pan Am building in Midtown personally, while the design of the new tower was mainly Pepper’s brainchild. The arc reactor design and construction was helmed by Tony personally. It took a little over two years of flying back and forth from Malibu to New York, but finally the day came when they would finally be able to unveil the new crown jewel of Stark Industries. The arc reactor would no longer be a science project, a shiny piece of invention built to ‘shut the hippies up’ as Obadiah so quaintly put it a long time ago. Next to the Iron Man armor, the arc reactor was Tony’s magnum opus, his Mona Lisa, his redemption. 

 

That morning, he woke up feeling excited. Finally the day has dawned for a new beginning, for Stark Industries to start anew. It was one rare morning for Tony to be awake early enough to catch the sunrise. Or rather, he hasn’t slept a wink because he had to put the finishing touches on the power grid restructuring algorithms. Tony made it up to the penthouse living room just in time to witness the sunrise marking the beginning of the new day. The sky was colored with streaks of orange, a bright ray of light on the horizon casting a shadow over all the buildings in New York’s skyline. The city seemed serene from up high, a contrast to the hustle and bustle that typified New York City. It was quiet this morning. Tony opted for the silence of the living room after being in the midst of the cacophony of his temporary workshop. It was different without the boys there, but for now he’d make do. 

 

Tony took a sip of his coffee as he stood by the floor-to-ceiling window that surround the living room, giving him a 360 degree view of the New York skyline. The past two years passed by so quickly. It seemed only yesterday that he was recovering from palladium poisoning. All the loose ends that he tied up wasn’t needed anymore, though he didn’t ask for the modern art collections back much to Pepper’s dismay. His last will and testament remained the way it was, with the money split up the way he instructed to his attorneys. Now, he was more aware of SHIELD and what they did behind the scenes. His ‘rejection’ from the Avengers Initiative didn’t mean that SHIELD stopped bugging him. On the contrary, they seemed to think that it gave them authority to bug him at random hours of the day or night with ‘consultations’. They commissioned SI for helicarriers and techs with one of the helicarriers completed and delivered earlier this month. Tony bet that SHIELD was using it now, peacocking and feeling more superior to the other intelligence agencies for having a flying aircraft carrier. 

 

Two years was a long time to sit on the knowledge that SHIELD had found Captain America in the Arctic. The expeditions that Howard manned and went to so long ago, at the expense of their father-son relationship, finally yielded result nineteen years after Howard’s death. Nobody ever expected to find the remnants of the Valkyrie, let alone finding the intact body of the world’s first superhero. As they excavated him and melted the ice encasing the man’s body, something miraculous happened. Steve Rogers’ heart began to beat. The man had been in cryostasis for the last seventy years, the serum in his veins kept him alive in suspended animation, preserving him so he remained the same as he was the day he crashed the plane in the Arctic to save the world. Or so Tony read from the reports he managed to get a hold of from hacking SHIELD’s mainframe. 

 

Two years was also a long time to come to terms with the fact that the man he had been seeing in his dreams and sometimes in his waking moments, the man he had been dreaming about almost every night for the last two years was none other than Steve Rogers, the same Steve Rogers that just came back to life two years ago. Who was born fifty two years before Tony was ever even the slightest of thoughts in his parents’ heads, yet somehow they had spent a life together. All those memories Tony had been seeing in his dreams, the ones in an Army base camp of them getting closer together, sharing their first kiss. Memories of their first meeting at the World Expo, Steve still skinny as a rake yet still exponentially more handsome, more amazing, than anyone Tony had ever met before. Memories of making love with him the first time which made Tony flush and lit up his whole body with pleasure and ecstasy. Tony remembered it all, remembered the experience and the feelings that these moments brought out in him. And yet he knew it wasn’t him who was there with Steve. It was as though he was experiencing everything through another person who was also at the same time was Tony. Another person who was Steve’s lover. Natasha. 

 

He has been reliving Natasha’s memories for the last two years as though they were his own memories. What did that mean? The only plausible explanation was one that was most outlandish and implausible. But what was it that Sherlock Holmes used to say,  _ when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.  _ Tony couldn’t have been alive fifty two years ago. Nobody has managed time travel, to the best of his knowledge (also, Tony was still holding out hope that he’d be the first one to manage it). The multiverse? Maybe, but unlikely. They weren’t separate people, they were the same person. Natasha was a different version of him. So that left one last implausible, yet the most truthful explanation to what Tony was experiencing: a past life. He has been seeing memories of his past life when he was Natasha Stark. He was Natasha’s reincarnation. 

 

Tony sighed and leaned his head on the cool glass window. Improbable, but the truth. It would explain why he had memories of a childhood spent in a small little town in Germany, memories of a little girl too smart for her age, of cold, calculating parents shipping her off to boarding school as soon as they were able to. Then a memory of how the little girl discovered her little secret, how she found out she could heal other people but not herself, and how she kept it hidden until she found someone who understood and didn’t judge her for it, but told her she was amazing and that he would guard her secret with his life. Memories of how she knew the inevitability of her death, but it wasn’t death that scared her. Leaving him behind was the more frightening of the two, because she knew he would blame himself for her demise, he would destroy his own life with grieving and self-flagellation. So she left him a letter as an absolution for the sins he thought he committed and to reassure him that they would meet again. For she knew that they would find each other again, no matter what. 

 

And it seemed they did, Tony thought. She was reborn as Tony Stark and Steve Rogers was frozen in time, awaken in a strange new world. The question now was should Tony go to him? Just visit him and say ‘ _ hey this might sound strange, but I’m the reincarnation of your dead lover. Wanna go out, grab some burgers and catch up? _ ’ 

 

Right, that’d go over like a lead balloon. 

 

No, better to just leave it be. Though inside he ached at the thought of staying away, it was probably for the best. There was no guarantee that Steve would even want to see him. He was nothing more than Howard’s son, and knowing SHIELD they probably already made sure that Steve knew every little detail about Tony, including but not limited to his sordid past. He was a perfect stranger in Steve’s eyes. Sure, he could just go there with the pretense that he was Howard’s son and nothing more, play up the Captain America fanboy angle, but that seemed disingenuous. Tony didn’t know what he would do if he ever actually see Steve’s actual face and not the photographs he’d been curating. Probably did something stupid like kissing him senseless, which would just end up with the Captain punching the ever living daylights out of him. 

 

Steve was here. Where exactly, Tony didn’t know, since SHIELD never disclosed that information anywhere in their reports. Tony should just be happy that they’re living in the same world now. He could love Steve from afar. He’d been doing that his whole life, after all. 

 

* * *

 

_ Williamsburg, Brooklyn, 11:00 AM _

  
  


Steve finished his usual morning routine of running through all the five boroughs of New York City. In the beginning, he ran to reacquaint himself with his old neighborhood, taking in how much everything had changed and remained the same. It was comforting to know that even after seventy years some things never change. New York was still the same as it was seventy years ago. There were newer buildings in the skyline, but the Brooklyn bridge was still there. His old neighborhood had been gentrified to kingdom come, he doubted he could afford living there now with all the fancy schmancy buildings they built alongside the old ones. The future was a lot to take in for Steve. In a complete turn around, as if to avenge the rationing and the austerity measures of the Great Depression, Americans nowadays lived in excess. The first time Steve tried to go grocery shopping, he had a panic attack. Or that’s what the internet told him anyway. He immediately exited the store and resolved to never set foot in it for awhile and went to a bodega near his apartment that has a limited selection of items instead. 

 

That was ten months ago. He was getting by better now. If there were no missions, his days were spent catching up on seventy years of popular culture and history that he missed and training at SHIELD headquarters. Every day it was the same thing. Wake up, run, shower, go to SHIELD, read briefing packets, go on a mission if there was one, spend time at the gym, go home, stare at the folders containing information on his friend, debate with himself whether he should read it or not, decided not to because he was a coward who couldn’t stand the thought of knowing his friends were all gone, fall into a fitful sleep where he dreamed of Natasha, wake up and repeat everything all over again. 

 

It was a hollow existence. There was nothing to look forward to but the next mission. It was the only reason he was still here. Someone at SHIELD knew he used to be an artist before the war and had arranged for art supplies to be delivered to his apartment when he moved in. It had been over a year ago, and yet he still couldn’t put pencil to paper. Any desire to draw or sketch seemed extinguished. Nothing inspired him, nothing moved him to create. His personal effects from the war filled his apartment, but he had no desire to look through them. He tried opening one box when he first moved in. To his luck (dismay), it was a box that contained Natasha’s personal effects, the one she left him after her death. He took one look at her physics textbook, her signature scrawled in the inside cover, and promptly broke down in tears. He didn’t leave his bed for two days afterwards. 

 

Little by little, he went through the items in that box, feeling like his heart was being torn right out of his chest. That box contained the only tangible proof that he was happy once, that there was a time in his life where he looked forward to the future, a time when somebody loved him. Now, all he had left of her was a box full of stuff. 

 

Once he arrived back at the apartment, he showered and made himself some breakfast. Then he settled down to read, trying to catch up on the readings list he made for himself based on the things he wanted to know. SHIELD had been helpful with keeping him apprised on the mainstream issues, like the civil rights movements, the Red Scare and McCarthyism, JFK’s assassination, the multitudes of war the United States fought in the name of spreading democracy around the world, electing an actor as a president. God, what on earth happened there? But as he well knew, there were always two sides to every story: the one side that the government wanted you to know, and the one they didn’t. 

 

This week, he wanted to learn about the other fights for civil rights. The women’s rights movements and the gay rights movements. It wasn’t something that he could just ask SHIELD. He wasn’t sure where issues like that stood at this day and age. But as his readings showed, it was more accepted now. There was no law against it anymore now. Heck in some states, like New York and Massachusetts, they could even get married now. It was great news, possibly one of the many silver linings in this new age. 

 

As it got later during the day, he felt antsy and decided to continue his readings outside. On a whim, he grabbed one of the many empty sketchbooks littering his apartment and a piece of mechanical pencil. (Boy, those new pencil were just the bees knees. No need to sharpen them anymore, because the lead could always be replaced with a new one that was just as sharp).

 

He rode his motorcycle, a newly restored Harley Davidson similar to the one he rode during the war, to the city and decided to stop at a coffee shop in Midtown Manhattan. It was a quaint little coffee shop, not too crowded and the seats and tables looked comfortable. Steve could envision settling there for a couple hours doing his reading. He went inside and ordered a cup of black coffee, still bemoaning the fact that a cup of black coffee cost as much as his rent did back in the day. He had to remind himself that inflation happened when he was asleep and that the prices he’s paying for food and other items were reasonable for this day and age. He went to sit outside, wanting to feel the cool afternoon breeze and the warm sun. As he sat there with his coffee, something caught his eyes. Across the street from the coffee shop, a name he knew intimately was emblazoned prominently atop a spiraling skyscraper, proclaiming ownership of the building. 

 

_ STARK.  _ The skyscraper across the street was the infamous Stark Tower that he heard so much about lately. The new skyscraper built by Tony Stark, owner of Stark Industries. Steve wasn’t entirely sure what the big buzz was about, the news have been reporting on it incessantly. From his vantage point, it just looked like...like a big, ugly tower, lacking the sophistication of the other buildings around it. Steve was aware his feelings on the tower was probably marred by his bias and his preference for the buildings that were around during his youth. But seeing that it was owned by Tony Stark, Howard’s son and Natasha’s nephew, the one person with a semblance of connection to his past, just made him out of sorts. 

 

He still hadn't decided what he should do or how he should feel about the fact that Tony Stark funded the Arctic expedition that found and resurrected him. Gratitude, perhaps. A little bit of obligation too, he guessed. It had been two years and he knew he should pay a visit to the man, after all he did brought Steve back. But Tony Stark never once inquired about him. It’s as if once the mission was accomplished, that was it. He’d washed his hands clean off it.  Well, it was a two way street. If Tony Stark didn’t feel it necessary to know about him, then Steve wouldn’t be darkening his doorstep anytime soon. The man was a billionaire celebrity, probably had better things to do than checking up on some veteran has-been. 

 

But something about that tower sparked something in him. In the light of the day and with the angle of the sun, the glass exterior of the tower reflected the light wonderfully making the tower appeared as a great beacon of light. It looked like the pillar of light he saw Natasha walking towards every night in his dream. Without thinking twice, Steve took out his sketchbook. And for the first time since he woke up seventy years into the future, he drew.    
  


He fell asleep later on that afternoon in the midst of painting. After sketching at the coffee shop, he went back to Brooklyn eager to create something, anything. Once home, he gathered all the canvases at the apartment, stripped them off its frame and laid them on the floor, creating one giant canvas for him to work with. Then he dumped cans of black paint on the canvases and with his bare hands, he spread the paint around creating a black background, making the canvas pitch black like his dreams. Then he started splattering white and blue paint all over the black background, like stars spreading across the night sky. A streak of white and blue in the midst of the blackness was painted with furious brush strokes. It was the light that she kept walking towards, the light that took her away from him.

 

Steve came to and heaved out a sigh, he didn’t know how long he had been doing this, but it felt cathartic, like he finally let go of everything that was threatening to burst open and swallowed him whole inside out. The brush clattered on to the canvas as Steve sagged to the floor, feeling more tired than if he ran a marathon. His eyes fluttered closed until black was all he knew.

 

Steve was aware of gentle fingers running through his hair. He was laying down on something solid. His hand touched the ground, feeling the familiar texture of grass underneath his fingers. The wind blowing through the field was warm, carrying with it the fresh scent of lavenders. His head was resting on something soft, something familiar that he never thought he would feel again. The fingers continued their gentle ministrations, periodically scratching his scalp the way he liked it best. There’s only one person in the world who knew about this, it couldn’t be anyone else. With trepidation, Steve opened his eyes to gaze up at the warm amber gaze of the love he lost a long time ago. 

 

“Good morning,  _ meine liebe _ ,” the moment he heard her voice, the dam burst. Steve let out a choked sob that he’d been holding back ever since he woke up in a world without her. 

 

“You’re here...God, Tasha--” he trailed off, choking back tears and emotion. 

 

“Hush, my love. Don’t cry, I’m here with you. I’m here.” 

 

Steve sat up, sitting face to face with her and gently took her face in his hands. Eyes and hands mapping out the beloved face, committing every single inch of her to memory. She looked the same as she did seventy years ago, on that fateful day when he lost her forever. 

 

“You lied to me,” Steve said, his tone accusing yet his hands never stop caressing her face. 

 

“What did I lie about, Steve?” 

 

“You said we would always be together. Find each other again. And yet here I am, still living in a world without you. Alone. You’re not actually here.” 

 

“But, darling,” Natasha cocked her head to the side, placing a soft kiss on the palm of his hand, “I  _ am  _ here with you. I found you. And you just need to find me, but of course you’re too stubborn to quit your self-imposed exile.” she teased him. 

 

“What?” 

 

“You just need to follow the light.” she said cryptically. And before Steve could ask her what she meant, she disappeared with a whisper. 

 

Steve came to next to his canvas, face down on the floor. His head hurt from laying on the hardwood floor but it was nothing compared to the ache in his heart. The dream was different tonight. Natasha actually spoke to him, touched him and told him she was here with him. What does that mean? Steve looked down at the amber pendant he wore. Was the pendant what she meant when she said she was here? 

 

But then what did she mean by ‘follow the light’? 

 

Just then, from the corner of his eyes, something flickered in the distance. From his balcony, he saw the lights illuminating Stark Tower flickered before it turned out completely. Steve jostled in surprise, and a little panicked if he was being honest. Was that supposed to happen? 

 

But before he could panic, the lights came back on again, brighter than before. The words “Stark” illuminated beautifully in blue light, as did the rest of the tower. What he once deemed a big, ugly tower looked ethereal in the moonlight. 

 

_ Follow the light.  _ Could it be…

 

Steve shook his head in frustration. No, it was just a dream, wishful thinking on his part. Natasha was here, yes, in the memories he held and the things she left behind. Steve clutched the amber pendant in his hand, feeling the solid weight of the pendant in his hand. That was all he had of her. It had to be enough. 

 

Feeling restless, he decided to go to the gym that night. Letting out all his frustration and issues by whaling on a punching bag seemed like a good thing to do. He was on his way to destroying the second punching bag when Fury decided to pay him a visit. 

 

“Trouble sleeping?” 

 

Steve spared him a backward glance, before he returned his attention back to the bag, “I slept for seventy years, sir. I think I've had my fill.” 

 

“Then you should be out, celebrating, seeing the world.” 

 

At his utterly absurd words, Steve stopped punching the bag and walked over to the bench. He unwind the bandages covering his hands and sat down. “I went under, the world was at war, I wake up, they say we won. They didn't say what we lost.” 

 

“We've made some mistakes along the way. Some very recently.” Fury’s tone implied something ominous. 

 

“You here with a mission, Sir?” 

 

“I am.” 

 

“Trying to get me back in the world?” 

 

“Trying to save it.” he said with a grave finality, then handed Steve a stack of files. Steve opened it to see a picture of the Tesseract. The damned cube that wreaked havoc in Steve’s life. 

 

“HYDRA’s secret weapon.” he declared. 

 

“Howard Stark fished that out of the ocean when he was looking for you. He thought that the Tesseract could be the key to unlimited sustainable energy. That's something the world sorely needs.” 

 

_ Great sustainable and unending power....It would transform our wars to a higher form of war...no one could survive.  _

 

Natasha’s words from her last letter came to him. She thought it was a power too dangerous to be entrusted to anyone. Steve kept her journal with the correct Tesseract stabilizer with him as he fell, a safety measure to ensure no one ever built the machine and to honor her last wishes. Now they found the Tesseract, and God knew what they have done with it in the interim. And wasn’t it just dandy that nobody informed Steve about its presence until it got stolen. Damn them all. At least, all they could do was study it. The stabilizer wouldn’t be built, since the schematics went under with Steve. 

 

“Who took it from you?” 

 

“He's called Loki. He's not from around here. There's a lot we'll have to bring you up to speed on if you're in. The world has gotten even stranger than you already know.” 

 

Steve scoffed, “At this point, I doubt anything would surprise me.” 

 

“Ten bucks says you're wrong. There's a debriefing package waiting for you back at your apartment.” 

 

Steve turned around to leave, picking up the punching bag on the way. He left the folder Fury brought with him on the bench and started walking out of the gym. 

 

“Is there anything you can tell us about the Tesseract that we ought to know now?” Fury asked after his retreating back. 

 

At the risk of repeating himself, he answered back, “you should have left it in the ocean.”

 

* * *

 

_ Midtown Manhattan, NYC, 9:00 PM _

  
  


“How does it look?” 

 

“Like Christmas, but with more...me.” 

 

Tony flew toward Stark Tower in the Iron Man suit. The Tower looked amazing, the world’s first self-sustaining tower, powered fully by the arc reactor. If Tony was more sentimental, he could cry just looking at his big beautiful tower in the midst of Manhattan. He and Pepper worked so hard on this, to see the fruits of their labor standing tall and majestically in the midst of all the other mediocre skyscrapers in the Manhattan skyline. A symbol of the future and a better tomorrow. 

 

“Gotta go wider on the public awareness campaign. You need to do some press. I can do some more tomorrow. I'm working on the zoning for the next billboards.” Pepper was already talking about their next step, so eager to move their project further. Work, work, work, work. All work and no play made Pepper a dull girl. 

 

“Pepper, Pepper, you’re killing me here.” Tony whined, “enjoy the moment, remember?” 

 

“Well I can’t be celebrating by myself. So get back here, mister and we’ll celebrate.” 

 

Tony snickered, “Yes, Ma’am.” he landed on the platform and the bots started disassembling his suit. It was pretty cool, if he said so himself. 

 

“Sir, Agent Coulson is on the line.” JARVIS informed him just as he disembarked from the platform. 

 

“I’m not in, JARVIS. In fact, I’m out.” It was technically true. He was outside. 

 

“Sir, I’m afraid he’s insisting.” 

 

“Close the line, JARVIS. I have a date.” 

 

As he stepped in to the Penthouse, Pepper was there waiting for him. She was looking at the monitor keeping track of the status of the grid transfer. Everything seemed to be going along swimmingly from Tony’s vantage point. 

 

“Levels are holding steady... I think.” she said. 

 

“Of course they are, I’m directly involved. Which brings me to my next question: how does it feel to be a genius?” 

 

Pepper shot him a long-suffering look, “Well, I wouldn’t really know now, would I?” 

 

“What do you mean? All this came from you.” Tony gestured around the room. 

 

“No. All this came from that.” Pepper pointed at the arc reactor in his chest, her expression fond. 

 

“Give yourself some credit, please. Stark Tower is your baby.” Tony told her, but of course Tony being Tony he couldn’t resist needling her a little, “give yourself...twelve percent of the credit.” 

 

“Twelve?” Pepper’s eyebrow slanted incredulously. 

 

“An argument can be made for fifteen.” Tony shrugged, grinning mischievously. 

 

“Twelve percent? For my baby?”

 

“Well, I did do all the heavy lifting,” Tony started to walk away, Pepper was starting to look like she was gonna claw his eyes out with her french manicured fingernails, “Literally. I lifted the heavy things. And sorry, but the security snafu? That was on you.” 

 

“Oooooh.”

 

“My private elevator--”

 

“You mean  _ our  _ elevator?” 

 

“--was teeming with sweaty workmen.” Tony paused, “hmm, I’m gonna pay for that comment about the sweaty workmen in some subtle way later, aren’t I?” 

 

“I’m not gonna be that subtle,” Pepper then poured herself some champagne, before deciding to be generous and poured another flute for Tony. “you tried to proposition at least two of them, Tony.” 

 

“There’s only so much dirty blue jeans and rugged work boots I can tolerate before my inner lonely housewife begs to come out and play.” Pepper rolled her eyes, “tell you what: the next building is gonna say ‘Potts’ on the tower.” 

 

“On the lease.” 

 

“Sir, the telephone. I’m afraid my protocols have been overwritten.” JARVIS announced, his voice sounded fragmented, a sure sign that he had been tampered with. 

 

“Stark, we need to talk.” And like an uninvited ex at a wedding, Agent Agent’s voice filled the room the speakerphone and immediately killed any festive mood to be had. Tony picked up the phone and stared at the Coulson’s unamused face. Honestly, would it kill him to have another expression other than none? 

 

“You’ve reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark. Please leave a message.” 

 

“This is urgent.” 

 

“Then leave it urgently.” 

 

As soon as he said it, the penthouse elevator door opened, and out came Agent Buzzkill, striding into the room like he owned the place.

 

“Security breach! That’s on you, Pep.” 

 

“Mr. Stark.” 

 

“Phil, come in!” Pepper greeted him warmly, much to Tony’s dismay. 

 

“Uh, Phil? His first name’s Agent.” 

 

“Come on in, we’re celebrating.” she continued on like Tony never said anything. 

 

“Which is why he can’t stay.” 

 

“We need you to look this over.” Agent shoved a file bearing the SHIELD logo towards Tony, “As soon as possible.” 

 

“I don’t like being handed things.” 

 

“That’s alright, because I love being handed things,” Pepper then took the folder from Agent, gave her champagne glass in exchange, handed the folder to Tony then took her champagne glass back from Coulson. “Thank you.” 

 

“Official consulting hours are between eight and five every other Thursday.” Tony took the folder and walked away from them to place the file in his data console.

 

“This isn’t a consultation.” Coulson clarified. 

 

“Is this about the Avengers?” Pepper asked, before backtracking when she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to know about it, “which I-- I know nothing about.” 

 

“The Avengers Initiative was scrapped, I thought. And I didn’t even qualify.” 

 

“I didn’t know that either.” Pepper tried unconvincingly to lie again. Tony sighed. 

 

“Apparently, I’m volatile, self obsessed and don’t play well with others.” 

 

“That I did know.” 

 

“This isn’t about personality profiles anymore.” Coulson spoke up, trying in vain to get a word in edgewise. 

 

“Whatever. Miss Potts, can you come here please?” Tony beckoned Pepper to his side at the data console, and once she was standing by his side, he whispered, “you know I thought we were having a moment. A celebration, if you will.” 

 

“I was having twelve percent of a moment. Or was it fifteen?” she sassed back. Pepper glanced back to where Coulson was standing at parade rest, for god’s sakes, in the middle of their living room, “this seems serious. Phil’s pretty shaken.” 

 

“How would you even know that?” Tony asked incredulously, “also since when is he Phil?” 

 

“Never mind that, Tony. What is all this?” 

 

“This is-- uh...” then Tony opened the files and expanded the display by extending his arms outwards on the data console, “this…” 

 

What they saw was something amazing. It was a compilation of footage of superhumans in mid battle. There was a guy who looked like a Renaissance Fair escapee, beating the ever loving crap out of a metal robot that spews out fire. Then there was footage of the Hulk at Culver University, fighting against the Army. He roared, and while Tony and Pepper couldn’t hear his voice, Tony could feel a chill up his spine. But what really took Tony’s breath away was seeing the footage of Captain America, of Steve, in action. He heard the stories, remembered them from his childhood and his memories of a life lived long ago but he’d never seen him in battle. He looked...glorious. Steve was strength personified. Power seemed to exude from every inch of his body as he laid waste to his enemies. A swing of the shield, a punch to the face, his movements were economical and fast like lightning. They didn’t saw him coming. Where Tony shivered in fear at the Hulk’s wrathful visage, seeing Steve in action brought a different type of shiver up his spine. Desire and longing wracked through his body at the display of raw power. The thought of those hands upon his body a long time ago, how effortlessly Steve used to lift him up, prop him up against the wall to have his way with him. How gentle he was with Tony, or rather Natasha, back then. Seeing him again reignited something in him, reminded Tony of how much he loved Steve, right from the start. From the moment they met to when they were so cruelly separated by death; from the moment Tony started to see him again in his dreams at sixteen, until now. 

 

God, Tony missed him so much it hurt. Tony had to clench up fist so he didn’t do something stupid like reach out and caress the Steve holograph in full view of Pepper and Coulson. 

 

“You’ve got homework. You got a lot of homework,” he dimly registered Pepper telling him that. 

 

“Yeah…” he faintly answered, eyes still glued to the screen. 

 

“I’m going to take the jet to DC tonight.” 

 

“Okay,” the blue cube glowing at the bottom of the projection now caught his eyes. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t exactly say where he had seen it before. He grabbed the holograph in his hands, the console displaying the information of the cube next to the projection. The Tesseract, based on data available seemed to be an unlimited and sustainable energy source. Discovered by Howard on one of his unsuccessful trips to find Steve at the Arctic. An energy source at the hands of SHIELD, the same agency that still bugged Tony day in and day out to make them weapons. Nothing about this seemed legit. 

 

The other files contained papers written by Dr. Erik Selvig, a famous astrophysicist who pioneered the Extraction theory and was the principal investigator of the Tesseract project. Next was a schematic of the Tesseract stabilizer, ostensibly used to stabilize the Tesseract and prevented it from reacting every quantum particle in its vicinity. 

 

Tony stared at the stabilizer for longer than necessary because there was something niggling at the back of his mind. The design was unfinished. Or rather, it was finished, but someone left off the drawings for the secondary reactor that was supposed to be there to siphon off the Tesseracts’ energy emissions for subsequent downstream processes. Tony knew something was missing because he drew these designs a long time ago. Just before he died. 

 

SHIELD was up to no good. The Tesseract wasn’t there to be studied as an energy source, to revolutionize the world or solve Earth’s energy crisis. They must have been using for another purpose. And Tony intended to find out what that was.

 

* * *

 

The Helicarrier was a technological marvel. Steve watched from his seat in the quinjet as they approached the giant aircraft carrier. Some days, Steve felt like he was living in one of those science fiction movies, like _Metropolis_ or _War of the Worlds_ , except he had been told that there was still no humanoid robots, or cyborgs as they called it, and flying cars were also still far from reality. But now, they have phones that you can carry everywhere you go, and they also double as a camera, a telegraph, a notebook, and anything else you want it to be able to do. 

 

Natasha would have loved to live in this world, Steve thought wistfully. He imagined how exuberant she would be at all the new inventions people have created  and how her eyes would lit up with the joy of scientific discovery and amazement at the new knowledge humans seemed to possess nowadays. Steve had always thought that Natasha was too smart, too advanced for the era they lived in, and that her ideas and her potential was limited by the fact that the world around her was unable to be a conduit for her ideas. She thought so far ahead into the future, farther than even Howard, the self-proclaimed futurist, ever did. 

 

She would have been happier right now, with all the fancy gadgets and the technological wonders around them everyday. Steve placed a hand on the inner pockets of his leather jacket where he stored her journal. There were still pages within left unused, a testament to a life that ended too soon. 

 

The quinjet landed smoothly on the hangar, and Agent Coulson signaled for them to disembark. He was a peculiar man, this Agent Coulson. One minute he would be calm and collected, barking out orders like the experienced government man that he was, efficient and to the point. But the next moment, when Steve happened to ask him questions, he would be flustered, tripping over his own words, and disconcertingly, gazing up at Steve with stars in his eyes.

 

Guess the propaganda lasted for far longer than the war, Steve thought deprecatingly. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, to be honest. It was odd and a little off-putting seeing how commercialized he, or rather Captain America, had become. A symbol of patriotism, or a propaganda for jingoism, Steve wasn’t sure. 

 

They disembarked and on the hangar a beautiful red headed lady in a leather jacket was waiting for them. 

 

“Agent Romanov. Captain Rogers,” Coulson introduced them succinctly. 

 

“Ma’am?” Steve nodded to her. Agent Romanov reminded him of Peggy, she looked like she wouldn’t hesitate to sock him one if she ever dislike a single word that came out of his mouth. 

 

“Hi.” her lips quirked up ever so slightly in greeting, “they need you on the bridge. Face time.” she addressed Coulson. 

 

“See you there.” Coulson walked away then, leaving them behind to walk towards the railings of the ship. “There was quite the buzz around here finding you in the ice. I thought Coulson was gonna swoon. Did he ask you to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?” Natasha asked him. 

 

“Trading cards?” 

 

“They’re vintage. He’s very proud.” 

 

Dr. Banner was milling around on the deck, looking around nervously. He looked for all the world like this was the last place he wanted to be at. “Dr. Banner,” Steve greeted him and shook his hands. 

 

“Oh yeah, hi.” Banner shook his hands firmly, “they told me you were coming.” 

 

“Word is you can find the cube.” 

 

“Is that the only word on me?” 

 

“Only word I care about.” 

 

Banner ducked his head in acknowledgment. He seemed pleased that Steve didn’t refer to his big, green alter ego. “Must be strange for you. All of this.” 

 

“Well, this is actually kind of familiar.” Not that he’d been on many aircraft carriers in his life. He was Army, not Navy. But this anticipatory feeling, this lull before the battle was something he was used to. 

 

Agent Romanov then ushered them go inside. There was some concern about what the aircraft carrier was about to embark on from Dr. Banner who proclaimed that it was a bad idea for him to be in a pressurized metal container when the aircraft carrier lifted off from the water and flew. Steve watched in awe and amazement as the aircraft carrier flew. Looked like he owed Nick that ten bucks after all.

 

* * *

  
  


With Dr. Banner’s algorithm, they found the Tesseract, or rather the gamma ray emission approximating that of the Tesseract, in Germany. Steve and Agent Romanov took the quinjet to apprehend Loki and retrieve the Tesseract. As they arrived, Loki had already shepherded the civilians outside and was in the process of shooting an elderly man to death with his glowing staff. Steve intervened by throwing his shield in between the man, reflecting back the energy beam to Loki and knocking him off his feet. 

 

Steve landed on his feet and stared Loki down, “You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing.” 

 

Loki stood back up, looking none the worse after the blast that knocked him off his feet, “The soldier. A man out of time.” 

 

“I’m not the one who’s out of time.” Behind Steve, Natasha, piloting the quinjet, positioned the plane’s machine gun at Loki. 

 

From the speakers, her voice could be heard demanding Loki’s surrender, “Loki, drop the weapon and stand down.” 

 

Loki then sends out another blast of blue energy beam at the quinjet. Natasha deftly evaded it just in time and Steve threw his shield at Loki, starting the brawl between God and superhuman. They sparred for a while before Loki outmaneuvered him and managed to put Steve on his back. “Kneel!” he bellowed. 

 

“Not today.” Steve retorted, then with his feet swept out Loki’s legs from beneath him, knocking the God of Mischief on his back in return. Loki grabbed Steve and slammed him back to the ground. Just as he was about to stab Steve with his staff, a cacophonous sound of electric guitars and drums clashing with each other, blared from the quinjet’s speaker, just as a red and gold figure swooped in in front of Steve, shooting out a blue energy beam at Loki, knocking him back on his feet. 

 

Iron Man touched down in front of him. Steve had seen pictures of him in the briefing packet, but seeing the real thing was something else. He looked amazing, all sleek lines and futuristic features, just like something out of  _ Metropolis _ . He reminded Steve of Maria, but Iron Man was more life like, his motions fluid and powerful. The red and gold paint might look gaudy and ostentatious, but to Steve’s eyes, an artist’s eyes, they lend an aura of elegance to the armor.  When he pulled out all the weapons in his arsenal and aimed them all at Loki, Steve was entranced. Iron Man was, quite possibly, the most amazing thing Steve encountered in this new world. 

 

“Make your move, Reindeer games.” his mechanical voice challenged Loki. Loki made the correct decision by giving up, hands going up in surrender as Iron Man aimed his palms at him. 

 

“Good move.” Stark said again. 

 

“Mr. Stark.” 

 

“Captain.” 

 

It might just be the heat of the battle, but the moment Iron Man acknowledged him Steve felt that familiar warmth he thought he would never experience again in his life suffused him. 

 

The words from his dreams resurfaced.  _ Follow the light _ , she said. Steve glanced down at Iron Man’s chest and thought that Iron Man’s power source looked an awful lot like the light Natasha was walking towards. 

 

* * *

  
  


It bugged Tony. It bugged him how easily Loki surrendered. It didn’t make sense for someone who could have gotten the upper hand against him to surrender that quickly. A quick glance at Steve ( _ Steve! Oh God, Steve’s here!! He’s finally here! Standing next to Tony! _ ) showed that he was unnerved by it too. Loki was seated on one of the seats at the back of the quinjet, chained to the seat cushion and looking for all the world like the cat that not only got the cream but also the bird. 

 

“I don’t like it.” Steve whispered to him. His voice, the voice that haunted Tony’s dreams and his waking moments, was in his ears. He’s hearing in real life now, not just in his dreams. 

 

_ But I like you.  _ Tony thought wistfully, aware that he’s channeling the swooning heroine from one of those Harlequin romance novels Pepper and Happy pretended they didn’t read. He willed himself to snap out of it and focus on the conversations at hand, but it was proving futile because the only thing he could muster up enough brain power to do was ogling Steve, apparently. He looked just as he did seventy years ago, even down to the hair cut. His hair was a bit lighter, but he still sported that old fashioned haircut he sported back in the day. It just seemed to highlight just how new he still was to the future. The costume was a travesty though. Jesus Christ, who the hell designed this thing? Tony wanted to petition SHIELD to have this costume triaged and burned and for them to let him design it properly, in a style that befit Steve’s dignity. Not this caricature of a comic book character. When Tony found the person responsible for this, he was going to court martial them. 

 

Steve still looked handsome though. He could be wearing a burlap sack and Tony would still fall head over heels for him. 

 

“What? Rock of Ages giving up so easily?” Tony finally managed to say. 

 

“I don't remember it ever being that easy. This guy packs a wallop.” 

 

Tony stifled a grin at the use of the word  _ wallop _ . God, Steve’s old fashioned words was so endearing. “Still, you are pretty spry, for an older fellow. What's your thing? Pilates?” when in doubt, flirt. 

 

“What?” Steve shot him an incredulous look, probably shocked that another man was openly flirting with him. Tony thought he might have made a mistake, before remembering that Steve was most definitely bisexual. He still remembered Steve coming out to him, all stuttered words and blushes, as he told Tony that sometimes he found other fellas just as attractive as he found the dames. But that Tony didn’t need to worry because Steve only loved him, and not anyone else. He remembered reassuring Steve that he was not odd, or diseased, nothing was wrong with him. Love was love no matter what form it took. 

 

“It's like calisthenics. You might have missed a couple things, you know, doing time as a Capsicle.” Unfortunately, Tony’s inner kindergartener was still alive and well and he resorted to the main tactics every boys turn to when in the presence of someone they liked: bully them and get on their last nerves.

 

Steve looked at Tony with annoyance in his face. His brow furrowing in consternation as he looked at the man standing beside him. Tony Stark was...not what he expected. He looked like Howard, had the same Devil May Care attitude about him, but that’s where the similarities end. His eyes, though, his eyes weren’t like Howard at all. Steve would know those eyes anywhere. Those warm amber irises whose color matched the pendant hanging around his neck, he had never seen them on anyone else in the world other than on Natasha. And apparently on Tony Stark. 

 

How was that possible? 

 

“Fury didn’t tell me he was calling you in today.” Steve decided to say, ignoring his comments about being a capsicle and calisthenics. 

 

“Yeah, well there’s a lot Fury doesn’t tell you.” Tony’s tone was pointed, as if alluding to something more than what they were discussing at the moment. 

 

Before Steve could press him further on what he meant, thunder and lighting jostled the quinjet, blinding them with the brightness of its flash. Tony wobbled on his feet as the quinjet swerved in its path but was prevented from falling by an arm grabbing him by the elbow to steady him. He turned and saw Steve with a firm grip on his elbow. Blue eyes stared into amber ones for a few seconds before the moment was broken when Natasha spoke up.

 

“Where’s this coming from?” 

 

Thunder rumbled again. Their captive looked outside nervously and started to fidget. 

 

“What's the matter? Scared of a little lightning?” Steve taunted. 

 

“I’m not overly fond of what follows.” Loki said cryptically. Tony looked dumbfounded, what follows thunder? Rain? He’s scared of the rain? Tony then surreptitiously glanced at Steve to see if he knew what the hell Loki was talking about, but to his relief Steve looked as flummoxed as Tony felt. 

 

Just then, a figure landed on the quinjet and with his bare hands, ripped open the door to the ramp and wrenched Loki free from his seat before taking off into the dark of the night. 

 

“And then there’s that guy,” Tony put on his Iron Man helmet intent on following the two before they lost them forever. 

 

“Another Asgardian?” Natasha shouted from the cockpit amidst the 

 

“Think the guy's a friendly?” Steve asked him. 

 

“Doesn’t matter. If he frees Loki or kills him, the Tesseract will be lost forever.” Tony walked to the open ramp, prepared to jump off and go after Loki and his kidnapper. 

 

“Stark, we need a plan of attack!” Steve admonished him. Of course, Steve would want to strategize their whole move before making any, Tony sighed inwardly. But there wasn’t time for any of that that. And hey, he was just taking a page out of Steve’s own book. It wasn’t like  _ Steve _ had a plan of attack when he stormed into that HYDRA base in Azzano. 

 

“I have a plan: Attack.” Tony told him before jumping off the plane. 

 

“Goddamnit!” Steve cursed, then grabbed furiously for a parachute. Stark was infuriating, what was he thinking just rushing off after a hostile and another unknown? His impulsiveness was going to cost them all. 

 

“I’d sit this one out, Cap.” Natasha suggested. 

 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” No, he really couldn’t. Somehow, leaving Stark to fight this out by himself didn’t sit right with Steve. Something inside him was screaming at him to Go! After! Him! Now! 

 

“These guys came from legends, they’re basically gods.” Natasha futilely tried to dissuade Steve from his foolhardy plan.

 

“There’s only one God, Ma’am. And I’m pretty sure He doesn’t dress like that.”

 

* * *

 

Tony crashed into the caped crusader as he pinned Loki to the side of a cliff. They flew for a few seconds before crash landing in a forest. Tony managed to stick it to landing, while Thor grappled with the ground for a while before standing back up. 

 

“Don’t touch me again!” he bellowed. 

 

“Then don’t take my stuff!” Tony retorted back, a bit petulantly, he might add. 

 

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with.” 

 

“Um, Shakespeare in the Park?” Tony mocked, “ _ Doth mother know you weareth her drapes? _ ” 

 

Point Break didn’t look amused, though. “This is beyond you, metal man. Loki will face Asgardian justice.” 

 

“He gives up the cube, he’s all yours. Until then stay out of my way...tourist.” Tony turned to retrieve Loki, perched up high on the cliff and looking down at them. But before he could take another step forward, Thor threw his hammer at Tony’s back, knocking him into a tree. 

 

“Okay. Now I’m pissed.” 

 

From the mountain side, Loki watched in amusement. Thor raised his hand. Mjölnir flies back to his hand. The God of Thunder then swung his hammer, summoning a burst of energy that he aimed at Iron Man. Iron Man stood up, hand blasters at the ready and fired at Thor. The blast knocked the God of Thunder off his feet, careening straight into a tree. Not to be outdone, he knelt down on the ground and pointed the magical hammer at the sky, harvesting the powers of lightning and thunder and directed the full brunt of its force at his enemy. Tony stood his ground as electricity surged through him, the HUD was going crazy with the unexpected energy surge coursing through the system. Tony spared a moment of thought to the arc reactor before remembering that he’d upgraded the arc reactor casing to withstand electric shocks. 

 

“Power at 400% capacity,” JARVIS oh so helpfully informed him. 

 

“Well, how about that?” With his newfound power, Tony fired away on his blasters at Thor, bringing him to his knees. Thor stood up, spinning his hammer again and lifted off the ground with Tony following him up, towards the night sky. They battled, trading punches and kicks until they crashed back down to the forest, more trees falling in their wake than they did before. Tony yanked Thor back up, but before he could do anything Thor grabbed his hands and crushed his gloves in his hands. 

 

Panicked, Tony charged the thrusters with as much power as he could and shoot it all at Thor’s face. The blast caused Thor to lose his footing and gave Tony a chance to headbutt him, stunning him for a moment before he hit back, with his head against Tony’s gold titanium alloy helmet and sending him flying clear across the forest, slamming against yet another tree. 

 

Annoyed, Tony fired up his thruster and flew back to Thor, grabbing his stupid cape and swung him around to another tree. But Thor was ready and anticipated his move, so Tony missed and Thor got the upper hand on him when he slammed Tony deftly to the ground. He summoned his hammer back to his hand, lifting it up, ready to slam it down on Tony. Which was not good. Tony quickly fired up his hand boosters and escaped from Thor’s line of fire, tripping him in the process. Thor stood back up, but his target was gone. He looked around in bewilderment before Tony crashed into him from behind. 

 

Thor growled, losing patience and feeling his temper flare up at this endless skirmish with the Tin Man. he swung his hammer again, ready to, once and for all, lay waste on his enemy. Iron Man aimed his hands at him, the tell tale sound of hand boosters charging up and preparing for a fight filled the air. But before they could attack each other, Captain America’s shield hit them both, stopping them in their tracks. They looked up to see Captain America standing on top of a fallen tree, effortlessly catching the returning shield back with one hand before fastening it to his arm.    
  


“Hey! That’s enough!” he commanded. Steve jumped down smoothly from the tree, surveying the damage Iron Man and Thor wrought on the forest, “Now, I don’t know what you plan on doing here--” 

 

“I’ve come to put an end to Loki’s schemes!” Thor answered or rather bellowed. 

 

“Then prove it! Put the hammer down.” Steve challenged. 

 

“Um yeah, no, bad call! He really loves his hammer.” Tony tried to intervene, but Thor backhanded him with his hammer, sending Tony careening to the ground, crashing to trees and branches on the ground. Steve saw red as Thor punched Tony out, a bolt of anger shot through him as he watched Thor laid a hand on Tony, touching him in a way that was other than respectful, hurting him. 

 

“You want me to put the hammer down?” Thor bellowed. Steve advanced on the God, daring him to do something different so Steve could have an excuse to beat the ever living shit out of him. Steve didn’t need much of an excuse at this point. Nobody would get away with hurting Tony. 

 

Thor leapt high into the air, hammer held aloft as he strike down at Steve who crouched on the ground, his shield held over his head. The electrified hammer and vibranium shield collided, producing a shockwave of energy that propelled Thor backwards, sending him flying clear across the forest, while Steve bore down the full brunt of Mjolnir’s energy. Steve gritted his teeth the pressure pushing him further into the ground until it finally stopped. The atmosphere cleared up, the pressure dissipated as the energy dispersed. In the aftermath, no tree was left standing in the vicinity. Thor was lying on the ground shell shocked and Tony, still encased in the Iron Man suit, gingerly stood back up, looking around the field, surveying the destruction they wrought. Steve was the last one standing. A shiver of desire and awe shot up Tony’s spine at Steve’s understated display of strength. He bested a god in a hand to hand fight. Ugh, could anything be sexier than that? 

 

“We done here?” Steve asked, his tone made it clear that he only expected one answer from them, any other answer wouldn’t be tolerated. 

 

Tony was wrong. Steve being bossy and dominating was definitely sexier.

 

* * *

 

_ A warm light for all mankind. _

 

Loki said those words mockingly and with derision. As if he knew why SHIELD was interested in the Tesseract and was calling bullshit on the whole thing. Which meant that Tony’s hunch about SHIELD using the Tesseract for less than wholesome purposes was right on the money. 

 

After planting that bug under the table at the bridge, JARVIS immediately got to work, systematically dismantling each layers of encryption on SHIELD’s mainframe. In the meantime, he would have fun tracking the Tesseract with Dr. Banner. And maybe persuade him to join the dark side of industry. 

 

“The gamma readings are definitely consistent with Selvig's reports on the Tesseract. But it's gonna take weeks to process.” 

 

“If we bypass their mainframe and direct a reroute to the Homer cluster, we can clock this around six hundred teraflops.” 

 

Banner grinned at him, “And all I packed was a toothbrush.” 

 

“You know, you should come by Stark Tower sometime. Top ten floors, all R&D. You'd love it, it's candy land.” Tony told him, hoping the mention of R&D would persuade the good doctor to visit. 

 

“Thanks, but the last time I was in New York, I kind of...broke Harlem.” Bruce smiled sheepishly. 

 

“Well, I promise a stress free environment. No tension. No surprises.” except Tony just undermined his whole promise by poking a mini electrical prod at Banner. Banner winced and jumped at the slight shock to his body and looked at Tony incredulously, “nothing?” 

 

“Hey! Are you nuts?” Oh, joy. Captain Self-Righteous here to save the day. 

 

“Jury’s still out on that,” Tony told him sarcastically, which only made Steve more annoyed, “You really have got a lid on it, haven’t you?” Tony peered closer at Banner’s face looking for any tell-tale signs of the man going green, “What’s your secret? Mellow jazz? Bongo drums? A huge bag of weed? Also who’s your guy, can you hook me up?” 

 

“Is everything a joke to you?” Steve demanded. 

 

Tony shrugged, “Funny things are.”  

 

  
“Threatening the safety of everyone in this ship isn’t funny.” Steve admonished Tony, “no offense, Doctor.” 

 

“No, it’s alright. I wouldn’t have come aboard if I couldn’t handle pointy things.” 

 

Tony walked back to his workstation, checking on JARVIS’ progress, “You’re tiptoeing, big man. You need to strut.” 

 

“And you need to focus on the problem, Mr. Stark.” 

 

“You think I’m not? Why did Fury call us in? And why now, why not before? What isn’t he telling us about the Tesseract? I can’t do all the equation unless I have all the variables.” Tony explained. 

 

Steve’s eyes narrowed, catching on to what Tony was implying, “You think Fury’s hiding something?” 

 

“He’s a spy, Captain,” Tony rolled his eyes. Steve’s willingness to give people the benefit of the doubt would be endearing in any other situation, but not this one. “His secrets have secrets. It’s bugging him too, isn’t it?” Tony addressed Banner. 

 

“Uh…” Banner’s eyes shifted back and forth from him to Steve, “I just wanna finish my work here and…” he trailed off. Picking up on Banner’s hesitation, Steve approached him. “Doctor?”

 

“‘A warm light for all mankind’. Loki’s jab at Fury about the cube.” 

 

“Yeah, I heard it.” 

 

“Well I think that was meant for you,” Bruce addressed  Tony, “Even if Barton didn’t post that all over the news.” 

 

“Oh, Stark Tower.” Steve said in comprehension, “that big ugly...building.”  Steve trailed off as he saw Tony fixed him with such a familiar annoyed glare at the slight against his tower. It was just like that time he annoyed Natasha by saying Belgian beer tasted better than German beer. 

 

Bruce continued, “It’s powered by Stark reactors. A self sustaining energy source. The building will run itself for what, a year?” 

 

“That’s just a prototype. I’m kind of the only name in clean energy right now.” Tony shrugged. 

 

“So why didn’t SHIELD bring Tony in on the Tesseract project? I mean, what are they doing in the energy business in the first place?” Bruce was asking all the right questions. God, it felt good to have someone thinking on the same wavelength as Tony for the first time in a long time. 

 

“I should probably look into that once my decryption programmer finishes breaking into all of SHIELD's secure files.” Tony declared, typing a couple commands into the terminal to check the JARVIS’ progress. 

 

“Excuse me, what? Did you just say--” Steve was flabbergasted at Tony’s blatant admission of breaking into SHIELD’s encryption. 

 

“Jarvis has been running it since I hit the bridge. In a few hours we'll know every dirty secret SHIELD has ever tried to hide.” Cap looked so tense, Tony offered him some blueberries from a bag he brought from home just to mess with him, “blueberries?” 

 

Steve shook his head, “And yet you’re confused about why they don’t want you around?” 

 

“An intelligence organization that fears intelligence? Historically, not awesome.” Tony shrugged. 

 

“I think Loki’s trying to wind us up. This is a man who means to start a war, and if we don't stay focused, he'll succeed. We have orders, we should follow them.” 

 

“Following’s not really my style.”  _ Nor yours _ , Tony thought bitterly.  _ If you followed the rules, you’d still be selling war bonds instead of saving the world.  _

 

Steve smiled mockingly at Tony, “And you’re all about style, aren’t you?” 

 

Tony couldn’t resist the jab, Steve was starting to annoy him. Nothing was going the way Tony thought it would be and it was starting to frustrate him, “Of the people in this room, which one is: A) wearing a spangly outfit, and B) not of use?” he asked contentiously. 

 

Sensing that the two men were about to come to blows soon, Bruce stepped in as the voice of reason, “Steve, tell me none of this smells a little funky to you?” 

 

Steve glanced at Bruce momentarily before his gaze found Tony’s amber eyes again, still staring at him in defiance, “Just find the cube.” he told them, before walking away from the two geniuses, intent on finding proof, to dispute or support their intuitions, Steve wasn’t sure. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something didn’t feel right about all of this.

 

* * *

 

Since the moment Fury came to him with the news that Tesseract had been stolen, something in him was telling him that Fury hadn’t been telling him the truth. Loki’s easy surrender bugged him too, as he told Tony. And his thinly veiled innuendo on why SHIELD was interested in the Tesseract. Everything Tony and Bruce was saying about SHIELD not being upfront about the whole reasons as to why they possessed the Tesseract was everything Steve had been trying hard not to think about it. He wouldn’t know how to handle such a blatant abuse of trust from the agency Howard and Peggy founded. 

 

Steve walked back to his room, his mind a jumble of mess. Being here, in this flying aircraft carrier, with a man that could turn into a green rage monster when angry and two gods, was the least of his worry. He couldn’t shake the thought of one Anthony Stark out of his mind though. He was the first person in this new world to ever elicit a barrage of emotions and feelings out of Steve. Something about him just made Steve wanted to give as good as Tony dished out. When Tony snarked at him, he snarked back just as much. When Tony showed up at the bridge, spouting such things like being an expert on thermonuclear physics, deducing correctly why Loki needed Iridium and he and Dr. Banner finished each other’s sentences in a show of brain power, Steve had to admit his heart beat faster. He was amazed and fascinated by how smart Tony Stark was. The last time his heart beat ratcheted up like this, a smart lady was standing next to him, disparaging the flying car in front of them for not having a balanced weight distribution. 

 

The whole ‘and you’re all about style’ quip wasn’t meant to disparage him. Tony was all about style, from his hair, his clothes, right down to his sharply shaped facial hair, the man oozed style. He was as handsome as someone from the pictures, and so very out of Steve’s league. Smart, beautiful and out of his league, just like Natasha was. Tony Stark was bringing out all the feelings he previously only associated with Natasha, and Steve was self-aware enough to know the tell-tale signs of him being interested in someone. And all this couldn’t have happened at a worse time. He was caught between liking the feelings Tony Stark brought out in him, making him feel alive for the first time in two years just by sassing at him and bantering with him, and feeling guilty for moving on from Natasha’s memories. 

 

Steve sighed deeply, raking his hands through his hair in frustration. Now’s not the time. He had things to investigate. And the first order of business was to confirm his hunch, his terrible suspicions that SHIELD had just committed the cardinal sin in his book. He walked back hurriedly to his quarters, intent on finding Natasha’s journal. It was still stashed inside his leather jacket in the goback. Steve hurriedly flipped through the book, hoping against all hope that he was wrong. Steve knew this book inside and out, had spent countless nights flipping through it, tracing the delicate scrawls of Natasha’s handwriting, trying to imagine what she was thinking as she wrote down pages after pages of scientific brilliance. 

 

Steve flipped through the book until he reached the last entry, one he hoped would still be there, only to find the pages missing. His blood turned cold in his veins. He remembered it like it was yesterday. The last entry of Natasha’s journal was of the Tesseract stabilizer, the device to stabilize and harness the powers of the Tesseract. It was supposed to disappear with Steve in the ice, never to be built, never to be used to unleash the powers of the Tesseract and wreak more havoc in the world. And now SHIELD has gone ahead and stole it. Steve would bet his bottom dollar that the facility that Loki attacked initially housed the device, and that the Asgardian had stolen it along with the Tesseract, Agent Barton and Dr. Selvig. 

 

If SHIELD was anything like HYDRA, they won’t stop at studying the Tesseract. Building Natasha’s machine only meant one thing: they’re gearing up on manufacturing weapons powered by the Tesseract. Now, Steve just had to find it and confront Fury on what the hell his organization thought they were doing. 

 

Steve clenched his fist in anger, he was right. The world hasn’t changed. Not one bit.

 

* * *

  
  


JARVIS finally broke in to the encryption and thousands of top secret, classified files spilled onto Tony’s desktop. Jackpot, he thought. It was always good to be a genius. 

 

Tony started scanning through the top secret files, all the documents he saw so far didn’t show anything new other than what he already knew. Emission data on the Tesseract, schematics of the Tesseract stabilizer and the missing secondary reactor that apparently was built too, much to Tony’s dismay. They’ve been harnessing the Tesseract’s emission, but to what end? Before Tony could move on to find the answer, Fury caught him. 

 

“What are you doing, Mr. Stark?” Fury sounded, well, furious. 

 

“Uh...kind of been wondering the same thing about you.” 

 

“You’re supposed to be looking for the Tesseract.” 

 

“We are. The model's locked and we're sweeping for the signature now. When we get a hit, we'll have the location within half a mile.” Banner answered for them. 

 

“And you'll get your cube back, no muss, no fuss.” Tony added. Suddenly his monitor beeped, on screen the words ‘Phase 2’ flashed intermittently piquing Tony’s interest. “What’s Phase 2?” 

 

“Phase 2 is SHIELD uses the cube to make weapons.” without any preamble Steve dropped a prototype of a gun on the table, right in between Tony and Fury, “Sorry, the computer was moving a little too slow for me.” he told Tony. Steve then turned to Fury, anger evident in his stance as he fixed his piercing blue eyes at the  Director. 

 

“Rogers,” Fury startled, desperately trying to allay the anger he could see was festering within the Captain. 

 

Steve cut him off, he took out Natasha’s journal and slammed it on the table, “There are pages missing from Natasha’s notebook. Her last entries were her designs for a device that would harness the powers of the Tesseract. Natasha thought no one was meant to hold such powers. Those drawings were supposed to disappear forever with me on the Valkyrie. But you took it. When you resurrected me, you stole her designs and you built it, didn’t you?” 

 

“We gathered everything related to the Tesseract. This does not mean that we're--” 

 

“I’m sorry, Nick. What were you lying?” Tony flipped his computer screen, showing clearly the schematics for a prototype of a weapon powered by the Tesseract, not unlike HYDRA weapons that Steve encountered during the War. Tony and Bruce looked angry at the deception. 

 

“I was wrong. Nothing’s changed.” Steve said bitterly. Weapons. Why did it always had to be weapons? 

 

Natasha and Thor chose the correct moment to walk in to the lab, unaware of the tension brewing between them. 

 

“Did you know about this?” Bruce demanded from Natasha. 

 

“You wanna think about removing yourself from this situation, Doctor?” 

 

“I was in Calcutta. I was pretty removed.” 

 

“You didn’t come here just because I batted my eyelashes at you.”

 

  
“Yeah and I’m not leaving just because you got a little twitchy. I’d like to know why SHIELD was using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction.” 

 

And then they were off. Words were shouted, arguments fought against one another. Thor kept laughing and calling them all petty and tiny, wondering aloud that he thought humans were more evolved than this. Bruce and Natasha couldn’t stop sniping at each other, Bruce angry at the deception and Natasha defending herself against Bruce’s accusations. Tony and Steve were no better, going at each other with sharp pointed words, hurting each other with the things they said to each other. 

 

All the while, they failed to notice the blue stone on Loki’s sceptre glowing brightly, the Mind Stone mucking around in their minds, shattering their inhibitions, making them say things they wouldn’t normally say under different circumstances. It all reached to a boiling point when Steve pointedly gave Tony a piece of his mind and grabbed his arms. 

 

“You know, Tony, you may not be a threat but you better stop pretending to be a hero.” 

 

Tony scoffed at his words, “A hero? Like you? Some hero you are. You’re a lab rat. Everything special about you came out of a bottle.” Tony spat out his words at Steve, “What kind of hero are you? You couldn’t even be there to save me when I needed you the most.” Amber eyes glazed over with fury and betrayal, and Steve staggered backwards at his words, loosening his hold on Tony’s arms as if Tony’s words were as powerful as a physical blow to him. 

 

Those words, those words haunted him. They came straight from his worst nightmare where he would see Natasha on the floor, holding her disemboweled abdomen futilely trying to stem the flow of blood, as more and more blood pooled on the floor underneath her. Then she would look up to him, eyes angry and betrayed and she would ask him why he wasn’t there to save her. 

 

_ Why aren’t you here, Steve? I needed you. Why didn’t you save me, Steve? I would still be alive if it weren't for you, Steve.  _

 

Steve stared at Tony, speechless and shocked to his core. Why? How come those words came out of Tony Stark’s mouth? He felt himself choking on his words, nothing he could say would counter Tony’s accusations. Instead what he said was, “Put on the suit. Let’s go a few rounds.” 

 

But before Tony could answer Steve’s challenge, an explosion rocked the ship, startling them all from their petty arguments and alerting them on the bigger threat out there. As one, they moved to counter the threat. On their way there, Steve belatedly noticed that he was still holding on to Tony, his hand was on the small of the genius’ back, guiding him out of the lab and protectively shielding him from unknown threats coming their way.

 

* * *

 

By some miracle, they worked well together. Steve and Tony managed to save the helicarrier from taking a nosedive and killing everyone in it when they fixed one of the turbines. However, not everything was going well. Thor was gone, Loki trapped him in the cage and dropped him from one thousand feet above the air,  the Hulk too was nowhere to be found. Though Natasha managed to incapacitate Agent Barton, she too suffered some wounds and the haunted look in her eyes from her encounter with the Hulk was all anybody need to know about her state of mind. 

 

Tony just landed back on the hangar where Steve was situated near the lever he used to restart the turbine when on the radio they heard the frantic and panicked voice of an agent bellowing, “Agent down! Agent Coulson’s down!” 

 

Without a word, they rushed to where the medics were being sent, arriving there before the medics. Coulson was seated on the floor against the wall, there was blood on the floor, his abdomen was stabbed. His eyes were closed but his chest was still moving, they weren’t too late. 

 

“Coulson!” Tony cried out, the suit disassembled itself from his body and folded up into a compact suitcase much to Steve’s amazement. “My God,” Tony kneeled next to him. 

 

“Stark…” Coulson rasped out. 

 

“It’s okay, you’ll be fine,” Tony reassured him. Steve stood behind him, at a lost of what to do. He kept his ears trained on the communicator, asking the other agents where the hell was the medic.  “You’re gonna be okay, Phil, don’t worry. After this is all over I’m gonna fly you out to Portland, first class. You’ll get to see your cellist.” 

 

“It’s too late, Stark. I’m not gonna make it.” 

 

“Don’t say that!” Tony shouted. His hands pressing against Coulson’s bloody stomach, in what Steve thought was a futile attempt of stemming the blood flow.

 

“Tony…” Steve was about to pull him away from Coulson when he saw something incredible occurred. Tony’s hands glowed a bright amber and Steve gaped in shock as he gasped aloud at the sight. Tony was healing Coulson, just like Natasha used to do. Oh God, how could this be? Steve watched incredulously as the light glow brighter the more Tony pressed against Coulson. 

 

“Stay with me, Phil, please,” Tony begged, pushing himself to the limit to heal Coulson, but the wound was too deep. He couldn’t heal it all. No, not again. Not another person dying because of him. Why wasn’t Tony strong enough? Why did he have this power if he couldn’t save anyone?

 

Coulson’s eyes fluttered closed as he breathed for the last time. Tony choked out a sob, a stray tear fell from his eye as he sent one last ray of warmth and healing to Coulson before he collapsed in exhaustion after using the remainder of his strength trying to save Coulson’s life. Steve caught him as he went down and cradled Tony’s bad close to his, still uncomprehending of what just transpired around him. The medics swarmed the room, too little too late. A good man was gone. 

 

Coulson was dead with Tony trying to heal him to no avail. The wound was too deep and they were too late that not even Tony could heal him. Tony, who possessed the same power as Natasha. Tony, who had Natasha’s eyes. Tony, who got under his skin and made him feel alive for the first time since he woke up. Tony, who was kind and generous beyond belief, putting his life on the line to heal and save another person. Tony, who possessed the blue light Natasha told him to follow. Tony, who was Natasha reincarnated. 

 

Steve gingerly touched the strands of Tony’s brown hair, marveling at the softness of it. Natasha had came back to him as Tony. It was a miracle, Steve thought reverently, his hand moved on its own accord to stroke Tony’s cheek. The beloved face of his love was marred by exhaustion and as he slept soundly in Steve's arms, he felt warmth bloomed within him. 

 

_ At last, my love has returned.  _

  
  



	6. I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

Tony woke up slowly, his head felt thick like he’d been swimming in molasses. His head was throbbing and pounding, he hadn’t felt this way in awhile. It felt like he just drink a fifth of Vodka and did some drugs on the side then came down in the worst way possible. He felt himself groan in pain, his head moving on the soft surface it was resting on in search for something to soothe the pain when he felt hands gently carding through his thick brown hair. It felt so good, especially when those hands started to scratch his scalp just the way he liked it. Tony wasn’t ashamed to admit he purred a little bit. But this whole thing seemed odd. He shouldn’t be relaxing in bed, having his hair stroked to complacency with such affection by someone who smelled so good, like sandalwood and teak and musk and everything nice under the sun. Tony nuzzled closer to the hand on his hair, willing whoever it was to pet him some more. Tentatively, Tony opened his eyes, squinting against the dim lighting of the room. As his gaze focused, he found himself gazing up into the worried gaze of one Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers who apparently had been the one stroking Tony’s hair.

 

“Cap? What happened?” Tony rasped out.

 

“You fainted, Tony,” Huh, since when did Tony became Tony for Steve? Wasn’t it Mr. Stark, or Stark! (called out in annoyance or exasperation), “You exhausted yourself trying to heal Coulson.”

 

As soon as the words left Steve’s mouth, Tony sat up in alarm, Steve’s arms grounded him to the bed, “Coulson, oh my god! Is he--”

 

“He’s gone, Tony. I’m sorry.” Steve said solemnly, blue eyes gazing to his own with such tenderness that Tony thought he was still dreaming, “You did your best.”

 

Tony deflated at Steve’s words and sighed harshly. Coulson shouldn’t have died, Tony should have been stronger. He should have been able to heal him, but was all should haves and they wouldn’t bring Coulson back. Tony was just not strong enough, period. From the moment he failed Yinsen to not being strong enough to prevent the death of a good man like Coulson.

Sensing Tony’s sadness, Steve said, “Is this the first time you lost a soldier?”

 

“We’re not soldiers!” Tony vehemently said. “This isn’t a war!”

 

“Loki just made it one, Tony. When he killed one of our own, he declared war on us. And rest assured, he’s not gonna get away with this.” Steve stated gravely. His deep baritone and the conviction in Steve’s voice sent waves of reassurance and comfort to Tony. It was weird and a bit twisted that hearing Steve promised certain death and punishment on someone, but it worked for him.

“Was he married?” Steve asked again.

 

“No, but there’s a cellist in Portland.”

 

They were silent for awhile, a moment of silence in remembrance of a good man gone too soon. Neither of them seem to notice nor mind the fact that Steve was still holding one of Tony’s hands in his own.

“I never got to sign his trading cards.”

 

Tony chuckled, “Yeah, he was real proud of them. He was quite the Captain America fan.” Steve smiled deprecatingly.

 

“Can’t imagine why. Ain’t much of a hero if he couldn’t even save the most important person in his life, right?”

 

Tony gaped at Steve’s words, clearly a reference to what Tony said to him when they were arguing back in the lab, “Wha-- Ste-- I mean, Rogers, don’t take that to heart, I was just--”

“Why did you say that, Tony?” Steve fixed him with a piercing look, his blue eyes were a hurricane of emotions. Sadness, pain, grief, and dare Tony say hope, which confused him to no end, “Why?”

 

“I don’t know…” Tony lied. He knew, he knew why. There was an ugly, ugly part of him that was unleashed back then, a part that was buried deep within him and for some reason reared its ugly head back during their altercation in the lab. A part that blamed Steve for not being there at his last moments, for letting him die alone. He remembered how scared he was, how much he wished he could have seen Steve one last time, but he wasn’t there. And earlier in the night, that dark, resentful and scared part of himself showed up and spat out some hurtful stuff to Steve. Though to be fair, Steve wasn’t mincing his words either. They said hurtful things to each other, hurt each other with their words.

 

Steve clearly didn’t buy his excuse from the way he looked at him as Tony tried to avoid his gaze. “What you did to Coulson, or tried to do,” he started, “I’ve seen it before.”

 

Here it goes. Tony thought.

 

“Really?”

 

“Seventy years ago, before I got the serum I was getting my ass kicked in base camp. One of the recruits kicked down the barbed wire fence during training and my hands got scratched up protecting my face from the wires. I was on my to the medics camp when someone patched it up for me instead. With just a touch of their hands. Do you know who that person was?”

 

Tony closed his eyes in resignation and sighed. “Natasha.”

 

“Yes. And then she died from injuries sustained from HYDRA attack and trying to heal everyone on base. Seventy years later, I saw you do the same thing. Do you think it’s a coincidence, Tony?” Steve asked him rhetorically, already knowing what Tony would say in response. Tony had hoped that it wouldn’t come to this. He hoped that he would have more time to slowly ease Steve into it, or never tell him about any of it. But of course, life had to fuck him up once again by making him show his little secret in front of Steve.

 

“Would you believe me if I said ‘yes’?” was the only thing Tony could think of to say.

 

Tony didn’t know silence could be awkward, and painful at the same time. He kept his eyes trained on his lap, avoiding looking at Steve’s face because he was a coward. He didn’t want to see the disappointment or the disdain or the rejection in Steve’s face when he realized his beautiful Natasha was reincarnated as a man on the wrong side of forty whose emotional baggage has its own emotional baggage.

 

“Tony, could you please look at me?” Steve’s voice sound faint in Tony’s ears, reverent, though that seemed strange for Tony. Tentatively, Tony did as he was asked only to stare into tearful blue eyes filled with hope and longing. Tony stared back in bewilderment. This was...not what he expected. Steve cupped his face in his big, warm hands and Tony couldn’t help closing his eyes, revelling on the comfort and warmth that simple touch brought him, “How long have you known?” Steve asked again, voice breaking with overflowing emotions.

 

“All my life.” Tony said, “I’ve been dreaming about you all my life. But I never know for sure until two years ago.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Steve demanded, “God, Tony...do you know how much I--”

 

“I was afraid you’d reject me. I was afraid...you didn’t want me anymore. Not like this...” Tony finished lamely, gesturing to himself.

 

“Like what? Alive and right in front of me?”

 

“A man! And a damaged one at that. I’m-- too old and too damaged for you now. You’re still so-- still so handsome and brave and noble as you were seventy years ago. But me...I’m nothing but a former weapons manufacturer complicit in the genocide of many. Why would you want me, Steve?”

 

“Tony,” Steve sounded so sad that Tony ached to hug him even after everything, “how could you even think that? Tony, you’re the love of my life. When you died, the only thing I wanted to do was curl up inside your casket and be buried with you,” Tony shook his head at Steve’s assertion. No, no, Steve couldn’t do that. He was worth so much more than Tony. The world needed Steve, not Tony, “I will love you no matter what you do, no matter what form you take. You think our love so shallow that it couldn’t survive you being reborn as a man? Tony--” Steve huffed and seemed annoyed as he hauled Tony to him, tucking Tony’s face in the crook of his neck, which Tony was more than happy to be. “Still so stubborn, even after all these years.”

 

Tony punched him in the stomach, though he knew Steve wouldn’t be feeling it, “Like you’re one to talk, Mr. I-only-follow-rules-that-suit-me.”

 

“That’s Captain I-only-follow-rules-that-suit-me, mister.” Steve grinned, stroking his hand through Tony’s thick dark hair, memorizing his love’s new scent. Some things remained the same, the burnt metal, the smell of grease still clung to him. But there were some new notes like the sweet smell of coconut, musk and amber that seemed to permeate every inch of Tony’s body.

 

“Steve…”

 

“Tony, I’m so glad I found you again.” Steve reverently said, his stormy blue eyes gazing deeply into Tony’s amber eyes. Those eyes that haunted his dreams, those eyes that used to only be in his dreams were now staring at him in real life. Tony clutched tighter to Steve through his armor, willing Steve to feel the layers of reinforced kevlar painted atrociously in red, white and blue. Tony stroked the star emblazoned prominently on Steve’s chest reverently.

 

“Steve, I-- I need you to understand that I’m not Natasha. Not fully, at least. I-- ugh, how do I explain this?” Tony rubbed his face, Steve patiently waiting him out as he gathered his thoughts, “I have her memories, everything that happened before. Everything with you. But I-- my feelings are my own. I love you on my own terms. I love you as Tony, but, but also as Natasha. Does that make sense?”

 

Steve’s answering smile was so soft, and beautiful, “I’m not the same person as I was before the ice either, Tony. I don’t expect you to be the same as Natasha was. There’s forty years of your own life journey that shaped you as the person that you are, and that’s okay. I’m looking forward to us getting to know each other again.”

 

God, Tony loved him so much it’s hard to believe that he survived forty odd years of his life with only glimpses and wisps of a dream of him, “Me too.” he whispered.

 

They leaned closer to each other. Finally, finally, Tony thought, I’ve dreamed about this since I was sixteen years old. Steve’s lips were so close to his, soft and delicate, and they leaned closer Tony could feel his warm breath on his face. Just an inch more and he would feel Steve’s kiss on his lips, he remembered how amazing and how loved it made him feel whenever Steve would kiss him and he ached for it. Craved for his kisses. Steve kisses was probably the only thing he needed to stay alive other than the arc reactor.

 

Which was when the door to the cabin they were in slammed open without fanfare. Tony and Steve jolted in surprise at the intrusion, the moment ruined. Tony glared at the cockblockers standing on the doorway, Romanov and who he presumed was Agent Barton, looking serious as a heart attack and deadly as a venomous snake.

 

“Really, Stark? You just met him today.” Natasha fixed him with a dry look as she observed the way their bodies were angled towards each other.

 

“Ugh,” Tony rolled his eyes, “screw off, _Natalie_.”

 

“What is it?” Steve asked the two agents. He was moving away from Tony, shielding Tony from the two agents with his body. He still didn’t know whether he could trust them, being SHIELD agents, and after SHIELD’s deceptions all bets were off. As far as Steve was concerned, he and Tony were on their own in this.

 

“They found Loki. Stark and Banner’s algorithm managed to track him down.” Steve looked back at Tony. Their eyes met in silent conversation on what they were going to do about this.

 

“I’m done marching to Fury’s fife,” Tony said definitively.

 

“Me too. He has the same blood on his hands as Loki does. But we can’t let Loki get away with this. He’s made it personal and it’s time to hit back.”

 

“So what are we gonna do, Cap?”

 

“Get revenge. Ain’t we supposed to be the Avengers?” Steve grinned roguishly at him, and Tony was helpless not to do the same. Natasha looked at them with bewilderment. They were just fighting and sniping at each other just a few hours ago and now they were acting like the best of friends. Tony cleared his throat when he noticed that he and Steve had been staring at each other for longer than was necessary.

 

“So, uh, where did you say Loki was?” he asked Natasha.

 

“Stark Tower.”

 

“What!” Steve and Tony yelped. Tony leapt off the bed and ran out of the room, yelling out, “That son of a bitch!”

 

“Tony! Goddamnit!” Steve yelled after him as Tony vanished from view. “Any of you know how to fly one of those planes?”

 

“I do.” Barton spoke up for the first time. The man looked like he’d been through the wringer and his exhaustion wasn’t all physical. Steve couldn’t imagine the toll being mind controlled would have on someone, but Barton looked like he was itching for a fight despite his exhaustion.

 

Steve looked to Natasha in question, asking her whether Barton was on the up and up. Natasha answered him definitively, “He’s good.”

 

Steve acknowledged her with a nod, “Good. Suit up.”

 

* * *

 

It probably said something about Steve that the only other time he felt alive in two years, aside from rediscovering Tony, was when he was fighting for his life against a horde of Loki’s alien army. Yes, there actually was an army from space. Turned out, Steve’s life could get weirder. Hey, if the love of his life could be reborn and they would meet again seventy years in the future after Steve just happened to be frozen in ice, then the appearance of an alien army in downtown Manhattan was just another day in the park.

 

The Avengers fought seamlessly with each other. At the beginning, they were still fighting separately, as they were wont to do. But after Bruce’s arrival (on a scooter of all things), Steve started calling the shots. Now, he, Natasha and Bruce as the Hulk were working on containing the damage on the ground while Tony, Thor and Clint were up high, trying to bottleneck the portal that was funneling the Chitauri to Earth.

 

They worked so beautifully together, all six of them, it was giving Steve flashbacks to his days with the Commandos. If Steve wasn’t busy decapitating these ugly looking lizards, he would have cheered for joy. It was similar, yet on another level it was different. Because back then, he never had the chance to fight alongside the person he loved, Natasha didn’t go out in the field. But today, right now, he and Tony…

 

Forget about it.

 

They fought together like they’ve been doing it all their lives. Anticipating each other’s moves and complementing each other’s attacks. Tony seemed to know instinctively when and where Steve would be throwing his shield and would have corralled the Chitauri goons there for Steve to demolish. And Steve would know where Tony was aiming his repulsor blast and would be ready to use his shield to deflect the beam and smoke the bastards in an instant just with the combined power of the two of them. All in all, it was the best team up that Steve could only dreamed of. He finally had someone who had his back, and his front too, supporting at every step of the way on the battlefield and off. And he would do the same for Tony. Their relationship wouldn’t be limited to their day to day lives. It would be all encompassing, wholesome, perfect and unheard of. Battle partners and life partners. They’d be stronger together.

  
Despite their best efforts, the Chitauri just kept pouring down from the portal. Steve could feel himself starting to tire, and he couldn’t imagine how the rest of his teammates were faring now. He was on the ground, Thor next to him, taking down the Chitauri with their hammer and shield when one of them let off a shot that managed to catch Steve in his abdomen.

 

Steve fell to the ground as Thor used Mjolnir to flip over a taxi and send it flying to the Chitauri brigade that attacked them, ultimately incapacitating them. Steve tried to get up, using his shield to lift himself up but his legs gave up under him. Thor grabbed his arm and helped him back up.

 

“You ready for another bout?” the god asked.

 

“What? You gettin’ sleepy?” Steve snarked back. His stomach was killing him, he was ready for this to be over.

 

As if answering Steve’s prayers, Widow’s voice on the comm line told him, “I can close it! Can anybody hear me? I can shut the portal down!”

 

“Do it!” Steve commanded.

 

“No, wait!” Tony interrupted them.

 

“Tony, these things are still coming.”

 

“Steve, I got a nuke coming. It’s gonna blow in less than a minute. And I know just where to put it.” Tony wrenched the nuclear warhead from the missile with great effort, holding it aloft over his head as he flow towards the portal.

 

As the meaning behind Tony’s words dawned on him, Steve felt his heart stopped in his chest. “Tony--” he choked out, “Honey, you know that’s a one way trip.” The comm line became silent as Steve’s words dawned on the rest of the Avengers.

 

Tony was silent over the comm, and Steve heard the tell-tale beep that the line between him and Tony had been switched to a private one, “Save the rest for return, J. I’m sorry, Steve. I wish there was another way.”

 

“Tony, please,” Steve was aware he was begging, but he didn’t care. This wasn’t fair, they’d just meet each other again.

 

“I’m sorry, honey. I wish we had more time.” Tony flew further and further up towards the portal as Steve and the rest of the Avengers watched from the ground, helpless and useless as they watched one of their own sacrificed himself to the cause. Steve fought the overwhelming urge to scream and cry and rage at everything around him because this wasn’t fair. He and Tony had just met and now Steve would lose him again. Steve was forced to let him go, yet again. 

 

“Steve, talk to me. Say something, anything. I want your voice to be the last thing I hear. ”

 

“I love you, Tony. I love you so much, Shellhead. I should have kissed you the moment we met.”

 

Tony chuckled, his voice sounded tremulous in Steve’s ears, “I wanted to kiss you too. I dreamed about you every single night, Steve. I want to be with you so much. And if we had more time, I want to spend the rest of my life loving you, being with you. I don’t ever wanna be without you ever again. I--” static started to break up their conversation, “--love-- _liebe_ \---” until there was silence from the other end.

 

“Tony! Tony! Tony, please!” Steve pleaded to him, tears streamed down his face as he kneeled on the streets, debris and smoke and fire surrounding him from the fight that just occured, as he felt his heart being ripped out of his chest again. “Tony…please don’t leave me...” he whispered futilely.

 

Silence.

 

Then supernova. A bright explosion that didn’t have a right to look as beautiful as it did shined from the portal. Almost immediately, all the Chitauri around them fell, like a puppet without a string, dead on their feet. Tony had succeeded, his sacrifice saved them all. Steve kept looking at the portal, wishing for something to happen, anything that would bring him Tony back, but the supernova just kept growing until nuclear blowback became a concern.

 

“Come on, Stark.” he heard Natasha whispered in his ears, the Black Widow wasn’t as unaffected by everything as she seemed to be.

 

Seconds pass and still no sign of Tony. With each passing second, Steve lost hope. The chilly iciness that he felt every single day he was awake in this new era started creeping up his spine, the despair he felt every day before meeting Tony was back. Steve wanted to tear everything down, destroy everything that took his love from a second time and when everything was gone, he would follow Tony. But Steve still had a duty, to humanity, to the rest of the world, and mostly to Tony. He would not let Tony’s sacrifice be in vain, “Close it.” he told Natasha. She did so without hesitation. The portal closed quickly, and in the millisecond before it disappeared completely from the Manhattan skyline, a small figure could be seen hurling backwards towards Earth.

 

A figure clad in red and gold.

 

Steve’s heartbeat ratcheted up excitedly as he saw the Iron Man armor. He felt a smile started to form on his face as he saw Tony hurtling down towards them, “Son of a gun,” he whispered reverently. But something was wrong, Tony wasn’t slowing down. He wasn’t making any move to break his fall. If this continued, Tony would hit the ground.

  
“He’s not slowing down,” Thor observed, then the God of Thunder started swinging Mjolnir around, preparing for flight. Before he could, however, the Hulk jumped out of nowhere, snagging Iron Man mid fall and crashed onto a building which the Hulk promptly destroyed by sliding down to the ground. As he reached the ground, the Hulk threw Iron Man on the ground and Steve and Thor ran to him. Impatiently, Steve tore off the helmet, needing to see Tony’s face. Several alarms sounded in his head as he saw the brilliant blue light on Tony’s chest was off. Tony, vivacious, full of life, mischievous Tony, always had the blue light on his chest keeping him alive, keeping the shrapnels away from his heart.

 

Steve touched his face gently. Tony’s eyes were closed, his face sporting bruises and wounds from the fight. Yet he looked no less precious and beautiful to Steve laid up on the concrete road. Steve placed his hand on the extinguished arc reactor light, willing Tony to wake up. “Tony. Wake up, sweetheart, please,”

 

Tony showed no signs of waking up, so Steve propped him against his body, hugging the armor to his body, bringing his face closer to Tony’s when the Hulk roared out in fury and jolting Tony awake.

 

“Aaaaaahhhh! What the hell! What just happened! Steve!” Tony exclaimed, amber eyes wide open in shock. And Steve, well, Steve was helpless to do anything else but smile indulgently down at him, hugging Tony, armor and all, to his body. He was so happy and grateful that they got another chance to be together. “Did you finally kiss me?” Tony asked innocently.

 

“I was just about to.” Steve said gently, then leaned forward to kiss Tony’s plush lips, drinking in the sweetness and the essence of Tony, committing the feel of Tony’s lips against his. And Tony responded so sweetly to him, opening his mouth to Steve’s ministrations and grabbing Steve’s arms with his gauntleted hands, pulling him closer, effectively deepening their kiss.

 

Steve breathed out in relief as he felt Tony’s passionate kiss against his lips. Tony was here with him. Here and never to be parted. Never again.

 

“We won.” Steve told him after they broke apart, faces still inches away from each other. Tony’s amber eyes hazy and trained on his lips, “Alright…” he said faintly, “Hey, alright. Good job team. Let's just not come in tomorrow. Let's just take a day. Steve, baby, have you ever tried shawarma? I saw a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don't know what it is, but I wanna try it.” then he started rambling in the most adorable way possible and Steve was helpless to do anything but smile indulgently at him.

 

“You lovebirds about done here?” Barton’s voice broke through their haze.

 

“We’re not finished yet.” Thor looked up at Tony’s tower, where Loki remained unapprehended so far.

 

“Oh,” Tony sounded disappointed at the reminder that the villain remained at large, “and then shawarma after?” he asked Steve.

 

“Shawarma after.” Steve pressed a light kiss on his forehead and helped him stand up.

 

They had won. Saved the day and all that jazz. But what was most important to Steve as he walked towards Stark Tower that day was the person walking hand in hand next to him. Tony was here, still here with Steve against all odds. They’d found each other again, as unlikely as it was, but here they were: two souls finding their counterparts in each other, two halves of a whole. And this time, Steve wouldn’t let go.

 

_...I will find you and you would find me and we would remember each other on a deep, visceral, instinctive level born from two souls recognizing its counterpart. _

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I lied. I have one more chapter as the epilogue :D


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm so (x infinity) sorry for how late this is. RL has been such a mess. And I have to admit I kinda hit a wall when it comes to writing. But I'm back now, rejuvenated after buying the Endgame tickets, even though the whole process of buying those tix was a struggle and a half.
> 
> Anyways, writing this chapter was nice. because I get to be in denial that Steve and Tony are still happy and will stay alive for a long long long time. 
> 
> Enjoy the Epilogue!

_Six months later_

 

There was something pressing on Steve’s chest that caused him to be pulled out of his sleep. It had a hold on him, tight around his torso and it was twitching too. Something scratchy was around his nose, prompting Steve to scrunch up his nose in an attempt to avoid it. Blearily, Steve opened his eyes intent on dislodging the thing off of him and continued back to sleep when he realized that it was Tony, with his octopus-like tendencies to cling in his sleep, was the one who was on top of him and all around him. Tony’s arms were wrapped around his waist, while his head rested heavily on Steve’s chest. His earlier instincts to shrug the weight off him changed to fondness and affection, Steve’s free arm found itself wounding around Tony’s back to touch him. Tony’s beating heart against his was comforting, solid proof that he was here with Steve, alive and well and smothering Steve to death in his sleep.

 

The past six months felt like a dream to Steve. Some days, he felt like he was still waking up from the ice and he still expect to hear that fake baseball game over the radio, feeling the dread and hopelessness of his whole situation. But then he would open his eyes and the first thing he would see would be Tony’s face, peaceful and slack in slumber or the abstract painting of the tower Steve had done months ago hanging across from the bed and Steve knew that everything was real. That he really did found his love again, seventy years later, reborn in this wonderful, amazing, smart, handsome and funny man that opened his heart and his home to an old shell-shocked soldier with more issues than Time. He and Tony had settled in their life together without much fanfare. It was as if all these years they’ve made a space for the other in their own lives for the other to occupy it when the time came. And occupy they did.

 

That’s not to say that they never had problems. Tony still had years of trust issues to overcome. And for someone so seemingly over confident and self-assured in public, Tony was mired in insecurities and always felt inadequate, at times questioning whether Steve being with him was a good thing. Steve would always shoot down his self-doubts and his self-hate with assurances of unequivocal love, telling Tony that if not even death could separate them, then nothing would. And that Steve loved him not despite of his perceived weaknesses but with full awareness of it. It wasn’t as if Steve was perfect himself. He was stubborn as all get out, there were days when he would wake up and just hated everything in this new world. Hated how different it was from everything he knew back then. Hated how for this world to exist, the one he knew and grew up in had to be torn down and remade. And on those days, he was an asshole to everyone, even to the person he claimed to be his _raison d’etre._ But Tony took in stride, giving him space to think and vent and always, always let him know that Tony would be there if he needed to talk, or to simply just be there with Steve if he needed him. The truth was, on days like that, the only thing Tony needed to do was to simply exist and Steve would feel better.

 

On his last episode, he spent the day destroying every gym equipment in the tower and then some before he went to the workshop, seeking Tony to beg for his forgiveness for being short and irritable the whole day. That day Steve was hurting all over. His head and heart hurt. When he woke up that morning and saw Tony next to him, he felt an inexplicable resentment at the fact that it was Tony sleeping next to him and not Natasha. It was irrational and unwieldy to feel this way. For all intents and purposes, Tony and Natasha were the same person, they have the same soul for god’s sakes. Steve shouldn’t be feeling this way, but he did. After he straightened himself out, showered to wash off the sweat and flecks of blood on his knuckles, he dressed in his Sunday best with a mission to take Tony out for dinner as a way to apologize for his behavior today.

 

He keyed in the passcode to Tony’s workshop (it was his birthday, and didn’t that gesture just make Steve want to swoon) and when he stepped in to the shop what he saw stopped him short in his tracks. Tony was in the middle of the workshop, bathed in the blue light of the many holograph projections he was manipulating and he looked impossibly beautiful and ethereal, like something from Steve’s wildest dreams that Steve felt his heart beat faster at the sight of him and in that moment he knew that he would gladly go through everything again, all the hea just for the chance to see Tony like this again.

 

“Steve? Babe, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Tony must have noticed his presence and seen how he was gaping like a fish out of water at the corner of his workshop. Tony tentatively took  a step towards him, unsure if his touch was welcomed and Steve-- Steve couldn’t stand the thought of Tony thinking Steve would ever deny him his touches.

 

Steve walked forward, pulled Tony to him and kissed the living daylights out of him. Tony gasped in surprise at the sudden kiss into his mouth before yielding sweetly to Steve’s questing mouth. Steve poured all the love and all the desperation he felt to keep Tony by his side into his kisses and into his touches.

 

They didn’t end up going anywhere that night. Clothes ended up on the floor, projects were left abandoned in the middle of rendering, and Steve and Tony ended up in the small cot that Tony kept in the workshop for naptime purposes, entwined with each other so tightly it was impossible to tell where Steve ended and Tony began.

 

“Your suit is destroyed,” Tony murmured softly to his lips, Steve couldn’t stop laying kisses to his sweet, sweet lips, “I worked so hard to get you to agree for a bespoke suit and now it’s ruined.”

 

“Like I give a damn,” Steve said, “‘sides, won’t you just use this as an excuse to get me more?”

 

Tony grinned dopily, sated and happy were good looks on him. Steve resolved on making sure to put that sappy smile on his face everyday for the rest of his life. “You’re right. And not that I’m complaining but what brought this on? You were jumpier than a snapping turtle this morning and now you’re all Mr. Lovey Dovey.”

 

Steve nuzzled his face into the crook of Tony’s neck where his scent was strongest, reveling in the calm and serenity it brought him, “I behaved like a right bastard to you the whole day. No one should treat you that way, not even me.”

 

“Oh honey,” Tony stroked his hair, “you have bad days, all of us do. Don’t blame yourself.”

 

“That’s not an excuse, Tony. You’re the most important person in my life and I got no right treating you that way even if it is a bad day.”

 

“Oh, Steve, don’t be too hard on yourself. I know you love me, I can feel it deep in my bones. Some days, or rather most days, it’s the only thing I’m certain of. I’m in this for the long haul, soldier. A little grouchiness from you isn’t going to deter me.” Tony bumped their foreheads softly together. “If death can’t even keep us apart, I don’t think anything could.”

 

“Never again, Tony,” Steve sighed, “You’re stuck with me no matter what you do.”

 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way, Steve.”

 

That was three months ago. They were doing better with each passing day, coexisting and cohabitating like they’ve done it all their lives. Steve thought this was as close to what he envisioned his life would turn out if both he and Natasha had survived the War: this easy coexistence with each other, filling each other’s empty spaces. Two humans broken in just right places for the other to fill.

 

It was as close to heaven as Steve could hope for.

 

Tony’s soft breathing gently caressed his cheek as he shifted from his position on top of Steve to tuck his face into Steve’s neck. Steve chuckled softly, careful so as not to wake Tony up, and kissed his forehead affectionately. He could feel the arc reactor’s vibration along his side, a reassuring sign that the device was working, was keeping Tony alive, and below that he could feel the beat of Tony’s heart, slowed down by slumber but still there. Steve settled back down to fall back to sleep once again, it was still dark outside and despite his fondness for morning jogs today he felt like he could stand to spend a few extra hours in bed with Tony. Just because.

 

Just as he felt Hypnos’ pull towards slumber, a shrill ringing noise rang across their room jolting him back to wakefulness. Tony jerked awake at the sound and groggily opened his eyes, “Whuzzat? Jarbis, whaz goin on?” he slurred out, yawning the whole time.

 

“My apologies, Sirs, but there’s an important call coming in from Sir’s personal line.”

 

Steve’s brow furrowed in consternation. Rarely did anyone call Tony on his personal line, unless that person was Pepper, Rhodey, Happy and a select few SI employees. “Who is it, JARVIS?” he asked.

 

“The number is marked as Private, Captain. But the call is coming from Stockholm.”

 

Stockholm? They didn’t know anyone in Sweden.

 

“Ugh, put it through, J. Just get this over with.” Tony rolled over to his back, showing his adorable face scrunched up in annoyance to Steve, which he was powerless to resist bestowing a light smooch on his lips. “Mmm, morning handsome,” Tony hummed.

 

“Can it still be called morning if the sun’s not even out yet?” Steve smiled back.

 

“We can call it whatever you want as long as you come back down here and give me some more of that to wake me up.”

 

“As you wish.” Steve leaned down to give Tony a more thorough good morning kiss but a strange accented voice over the PA system stopped him.

 

“Hello? Am I speaking to Dr. Anthony E.C. Stark?”

 

“Ugh, what’s with the ‘Doctor’ thing? I don’t have a medical license.” Tony retorted back. “It’s just Mr. Stark. Who are you and what do you want?”

 

“Um, okay…” the voice on the line seemed taken aback, “Mr. Stark then. Sir, I’m calling on behalf of the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences. This is a very important matter. Please stay on the line.” then a beeping sound signalled Tony and Steve's end of the line being put on hold. 

 

“The fuck? Did he just put us on hold?” Tony asked indignantly.

 

“You have two middle names? How come I never knew about this?” Steve asked.

 

“Steve, honey, really? That’s what you chose to focus on? Not the fact that someone from the Royal Swedish academy just called us out of the blue at --fuck, 3 AM?-- at 3 in the morning.”

 

Steve shrugged, “Why should I be surprised? You’re one of the most brilliant scientific minds on the planet. Frankly, I’m more surprised they haven’t called sooner.”

 

“Aw, honey, you say the sweetest things,” Tony’s tone might sound flippant and dismissive but Steve knew his inability to take a sincere compliment was making him sound that way. Inside, he was pretty sure Tony was preening.

 

“Don’t let Bruce hear you say that. He might get upset and hulk out.”

 

“They’re calling to give you a Nobel prize, I’m sure of it.” Steve kissed his cheek.

 

“Hah! Yeah right!” Tony laughed incredulously, “wanna bet?”

 

“You’re on. What do I get if I win?”

 

“I will fix up that eyesore of a motorcycle you love so much and I’ll give up trying to make you buy tight jeans. And no more giant stuffed animals randomly showing up at your studio.” Tony said, referring to the last time he gave Steve a giant teddy bear with a heart shaped pillow.  “What do I get then if I win?”

 

“You’ll agree to let me pay for our next date night. And you have to let me teach you hand-to-hand combat skills.”

 

“You’re on.”

 

“Dr. Stark?” a new voice sounded from the PA system, “are you still on the line?”

 

Tony groaned, “I can see that telling you to dispense with the academic elite traditions of title dropping is a waste of time, so I’m not even gonna bother. Yeah, I’m still here. What do you want?”

 

If the speaker on the other line was taken aback by Tony’s curtness, it didn’t show in his next words. “My name is Arne Ingelman from the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences. You have been proposed by your peers in the Nobel Committee for Physics for laureates for the Nobel Prize for Physics due to your groundbreaking work in synthesizing and isolating the new element Howardium and for achieving controlled and sustainable nuclear fusion chain reaction. It is our pleasure to inform you that you have been chosen as this year’s Nobel laureate in Physics. Congratulations, Sir.”

 

Steve gasped loudly and had to muffle the shout that was surely burgeoning from him. He squeezed Tony’s arm tight enough that he was sure there would be some bruising left on his arm but at the moment he couldn’t careless.  

 

“Come again?” for once in his life, Tony was speechless.

 

“You, along with two other physicists whose name I cannot disclose at the moment, have been selected as the Nobel Laureates in Physics for 2012. Congratulations, Sir.”

 

“Oh my God…” Tony faintly muttered.

 

“The prize will be disseminated in Stockholm in December. Would you be able to make the travels?”

 

Tony still looked shell-shocked, sitting on their bed with his mouth gaping open, so Steve answered for him, “Yes, yes we will be able to go to Stockholm in December.”

 

“Very good, Sir. Someone will contact you in the near future with more information on the itinerary. Once again, congratulations, Sir.” then the line cut off. There was a few moments of silence where Tony just sat there on their bed

 

“Steve, did that just happen?”

 

“Yes, Tony, yes. Sweetheart, you won the Nobel prize!” Steve hauled him up out of bed and twirled him around on the floor much to Tony’s amusement. His laughter sounded like a bell of happiness in Steve’s ears.

 

“Wow. Wow I can’t believe this. I’m a Nobel laureate. Oh my God, Steve, do you know what this means?”

 

“That you’re the smartest, most brilliant man on the face of the Earth.”

 

“Keep talking like that and we’re not gonna make it to Stockholm on account of being indisposed with extended bedroom activities.”

 

Steve chuckled, “Tell me, Tony.”

 

“This means I can lord everything over Bruce,” Tony cackled hilariously, “now he has to do what I say no matter how “dangerous” or “unstable” the reaction might be. I’m a Nobel laureate, bitch.”

 

“I still think you need to defer to Bruce when it comes to lab safety.”

 

“But Steeveee, scienceeee~~”

 

Steve chuckled again, “Congratulations, honey. I’m so proud of you. God, it’s not even my achievement but I’m so proud and happy for you. You’ve wanted this for so long but back then the chances of you ever winning a Prize was slim to none on account of all your work considered  ‘Classified’.”

 

“Yeah…” Tony acknowledged, “I never thought this day would come. But it’s here now and I don’t-- I don’t even know what to do or how to feel.”

 

“You don’t have to do anything, Tony. You don’t have to do anything but be happy.” Steve pulled him closer and put their foreheads together. “Giving you happiness is my main mission in life.”

 

Tony’s answering smile was enough to illuminate the Universe.

 

* * *

  


And so they went to Stockholm in December. Tony got his gold medal while Steve watched on with pride and uncontrollable happiness. He must have grinned the entire time from how sore his cheeks felt later that night. Tony donated the prize money to the New York Public Schools system to advance their STEM programs and made good on his promise to fix Steve’s motorcycle and let Steve pay for date nights once in awhile and to not buy anymore giant stuffed animals for him.

 

...Or at least until Christmas next year when Steve came back from a mission in South America to a giant stuffed rabbit dressed as Captain America, complete with a pin around its neck proclaiming “Merry Christmas Steve” on the front lawn of the Malibu mansion.

 

Steve sighed longsufferingly looking very put upon, but the small smile that formed on his face betrayed his affections for Tony. He reached in his jacket pocket and felt for the box that was supposed to be in there.

 

What better way to celebrate their first Christmas together than with a proposal?

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tony will return...?


End file.
